Kaleidoscope BLOOD
by HenkeFalling
Summary: Ultimate betrayal… No blood debt will scour Kanato Sakamaki's plans to assassinate his own flesh, his brother, his King. Second chances… That's what Theodora Forrest-Little wants after learning she's pregnant, but being drawn into a battle of beasts isn't part of that plan, and neither is falling in love with the man who has the power to rob her chance at happily forever.
1. Author's Note

**A/N:**

Dear Readers (or Casual Browsers),

Hello to anyone reading this really long teaser. First off, I'm way to lazy to go around breaking this colossus of a chapter up. And for that, I'm sorry. But if you're really pained by it, PM or leave a review and I'll work to break it up. Secondly, I will be working on a new version of Kaleidoscope BLOOD. That being said, this isn't the final version. In fact, I already have an outline that takes the story in a different direction.

So what's the purpose of this little note. Well, what I would like from you all is to have you ladies and gents leaving a comment/review with CONSTRUCTIVE negative or positive thoughts on the story. What would you like to see? What did you love/hate?

For instance, someone left a review with a concern about the names (i.e. Theodora Forrest-Little, Reich, etc.). Some names will be of non-Japanese origin as the story will still be set in Texas (the setting, therefore, is non-negotiable). Yes, the Sakamaki household-at least some of it-has moved to the state where everything's just bigger. Including the drama and the bad guys. So, please leave a review with your own concerns. I'm taking all of your opinions and suggestions into consideration, I promise.

Take care, everyone,

**-Henke**


	2. (Old Verson) Teaser

**© All Rights Reserved. Although I DO NOT own Kanato Sakamaki and any works in the Diabolik Lovers series-the rightful property of Rejet and Otomate-I ****_do_**** own Theodora and a few other characters in this story. Thank you and enjoy.**

**AND AS NOTED ON MY PROFILE PAGE: I'm editing and rewriting Kaleidoscope BLOOD. That being said, I will not be updating until December 31st, 2013. Then I'll post the whole story then-sparkly and shiny from editing paradise. Until then, please enjoy this lengthy teaser. :) And leave comments with your suggestions if you'd like. Let me know, for instance, what you hated about this or what you really loved!**

**ｏ１．**

For the past five minutes, Theodora Forrest-Little had been trying to decide which one was scarier: the electric bill that she'd just recovered from its two-day confinement in her apartment mail box or the male tenant who'd stopped jabbering on his cell long enough to leer at her despite the bunny ears he wore.

Having just come home from another unsuccessful job interview—one she'd woken up in god-forbidden hours of the early day to avoid traffic for, only to be told there had been a mix-up and the company had already filled the position—Theodora decided both were invitations to throw her purse on the floor, scream bloody murder and tear at her hair right then and there.

The thought brought a bitter smile as she trailed through the stifling air and sour odor she'd come to attribute to the lobby since her two-month anniversary in the duplex towers was right around the corner.

After calling the elevator, she made the mistake to look back at the man. From his seat in the lobby's open sitting area, he was checking her out fully now, his attention having reared on her after he'd hang up his phone. Pulling her blazer closed over the abundance of cleavage from the dip in the white tee's neck she wore underneath, Theodora's discomfiture made her impatiently press the elevator button again.

She could feel his approach even before he said, "Good afternoon."

Theodora curtly nodded, hoping her silence and body language spoke their volume.

"Do you live here? I noticed you grabbing your mail."

More quietude on her part.

"Okay. Am I, like, offending you or something?"

Well, he wasn't entirely stupid. The elevator slowly inched past six, making it to four before it stopped again.

"Sorry. I just think you're pretty hot. I'm Baylor." He thrust out his hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Baylor." She replied, however, leaving his hand hanging without its reception. Sure Theodora could see he was an attractive male, especially for a girl who might be into a guy who wore Abercrombie Fitch so naturally, like a second skin.

But Baylor appeared to be in his early twenties, most likely a university undergrad, which would make perfect sense. As she came to realize her first night in, most her tenants were of the party-hard-study-easy eighteen to twenty-two age set. And even though the closest public university was still a good hour drive from the residential unit, the attractive prices lured those with feeble wallets—if the long waitlist Theodora topped said anything. The rent was decent enough for a student working part-time to afford his or her option between a one-bedroom or two-bedroom residence.

_Just fine for a person with a job, but that's something you don't have, remember?_

She had to agree with her belligerent mindset. Right now she was living off the money she'd saved over the past year and a half. With around twenty-thousand Theodora calculated she could live like a jobless bum for another six months before her savings would start to dwindle.

_Well, maybe six months, if you didn't also have to worry about feeding another mouth around that time._

Sometimes she wondered how life might have been had she not tested positive a total of five times that fateful mid-August morning. Hands-down the best scare she had this year.

Only the thing with frights are that they aren't real, and as much as she'd like to deny her sudden appetites for two helpings of about everything, her anytime-goes nausea and the stiffness of her belly, Theodora was still just as scared as that first day the two intersecting rosy lines on her over-the-counter pregnancy test changed the course of her destiny.

Her delusion persisted. In fact, Theodora went so far to continue living as though nothing changed those next few weeks after she learned of her pregnancy. She'd worn the same clothing even as she gained weight, ate the same meals even when the slightest whiff of the favorite pineapple topping on her Hawaiian pizza followed up with multiple midnight trips to the bathroom, and traded her perfectly-positioned cubicle in the office for a seat beside the washrooms just in case mother nature called,…_oh, every half hour._

"So are you a student at LSU?" The Greek symbols on his shirt said he was.

"No, I don't go to Louisiana State."

Thankfully she finished her education. Her studies took her abroad at the tender age of eighteen. She'd been a fresh high school graduate wandering the streets of London while putting in the required hours for credits towards her Hospitality degree after blundering around in her first semester with mostly biology and chemistry courses.

"Oh? Do you go someplace else?" Then as if he recalled something, he said, "Wait. You aren't underage, are you?"

Theodora wanted to say it didn't matter because, as flattering as it was, what he was insinuating was impossible. After her ex and her baby's father dropped her like the ticking baby bomb she was, the dating scene just didn't seem appealing any longer. He'd tainted all men for her.

The elevator dinged open and she eased out the doors, the young Baylor shadowing her steps. The ride up was filled with his innocent, albeit annoying, blabbering, so it was with relief that Theodora stepped out onto her floor.

"Hey! Do you want to, I don't know, hang out sometime?"

Theodora shook her head. "Not really. But it was nice to meet you." It didn't seem appropriate to string him along when there was no reciprocal attraction. Theodora was all too familiar with unrequited, ego-based love and heartbreak, and she figured she would save this frat boy the trouble.

"That sucks." A long pause, then, "Did I mention you're totally hot?"

Now that was a compliment she'd take. She offered him a genuine smile. "Yes. Thank you."

Then turning away, she busied herself with pulling out her apartment keys. Theodora could still feel his eyes on her, and he confirmed his presence when he called out, "Oh, Happy Hallowe'en by the way." She rounded back to see him tugging on his rabbit appendages as if that explained why the silly-looking things were on his head.

Raising her hand in recognition, she worked her key into the lock. _Happy Hallowe'en? More like Hell-owe'en._

Closing the door behind her, and effectively on any more romantic advances for the morning, Theodora tossed the bills on her kitchen counter and rummaged her fridge for some comfort food after a less-then satisfying, rushed breakfast bar tided her through the disappointment of another depressing day.

Once having satisfied her hunger nerves, she then decided to sleep off the image of an empty bank account and a loveless single motherhood.

And Theodora managed that for at least two hours before the familiar tune of her cell buzzed from the purse she had forgotten at the foot of her bed.

Blindly swiping at the call button, she groggily mumbled her greeting into the receiver.

"Hey, Theo, are you okay?" Her sister's concern-laced voice succeeded in brushing some of the sleep from her mind.

"Fine, Jen." Theodora yawned. "You just interrupted my beauty sleep, that's all."

Jennifer laughed, the sound rapidly replacing the tension in her voice. The older of the two, she always took her role as big sister very seriously. Sometimes too darn seriously, leaving Theodora to become a pro at fending off the attacks of Jen-based nervosa directed her way.

"I've just been so tired lately. Like the ten-plus hours of sleep isn't enough."

"Yeah. Babies will do that to you." Jen said, and Theodora cringed on her part to the word 'baby'. It really had become a reflex for her, and a part of her realized that the negative association wasn't good for her at all. Not that her wallet could afford trips to a psychiatrist any time soon.

Hurrying to change the subject, mostly afraid Jen would latch on to her long pause and start her worrying anew, Theodora asked, "So what's up?"

"Oh. I was just calling to make sure you don't bail out on me."

It took her a moment to remember the promise. Sensing Theodora's relapse in the silence that stretched, Jen sighed. "Did you forget?"

"No. Of course not."

"Yeah, yeah, you forgot. Good thing I had the mind to call you then, sis."

It was that time of year again: Hallowe'en and trick-or-treating. Jen supervised her young sons' annual candy-gathering activity and she was twisting Theodora's arm into the outing this year.

"Anyways, sweet, forgetful sister of mine, I was calling to ask if you want Fred to pick you up."

"No, I'm just going to drive there myself." Theodora said, withholding her exasperated groan. What she really wanted to say was, 'For the umpteenth time, I'm not a cripple. I can friggin' drive myself, thank you very much.' But not only was that parallel to their parents' wholesome upbringing, it was also just plain rude. After all, Theodora knew where Jen was coming from and it was nothing but a sunny place of goodwill which considering the storm clouds that ushered her home that afternoon and a weather team who were half right, was actually something quite welcome.

There was a long pause on the other end. "Cool. Then you'll want to leave at five."

"Why? Do you need me to pick up some extra snacks?"

"Oh, heck no! Fred and the boys have already made sure we've stocked up on enough and now we're overflowing. No, it's just that you'll want to avoid the six o'clock traffic."

"Traffic? In Jefferson?" Theodora couldn't help the bewildered laughter that slipped out with her response.

Her sister scoffed. "You'd be surprised by how busy this place can get."

"Yes. Busy is what again for a city of sixteen hundred?"

"Okay. Then it's decided. I'll be expecting you no later than five-ten." Blowing a kiss into the phone, Jen killed the line. As Theodora sat up and tossed the cell back in her purse, she glanced at the bedside clock and confirmed the lazy afternoon sun was beginning to bleed into the cool evening hours as four fast approached.

And knowing who Jen was, at four sharp Theodora was in the apartment's private outdoor parking for its tenants, rummaging around her purse in search for the keys to her Audi. Though a late 2008 model, it still ran relatively smoothly with a low mileage.

The sweet little red number was one of the few things she'd prided herself on. Having purchased it on her fourth day after arriving to the States, she'd come to rely on it. But like the apartment, Jen and her parents had voiced their concerns. The acts of independence weren't translating as well, and they didn't understand why she couldn't alternate between their two households or at least settle in one.

Still with the nearly one-hour drive ahead of her, Theodora only came more to appreciate the smooth pavement as the miles and signage flitted by, the wavering tunes and guitar whispers of the Jack Johnson's "Banana Pancakes" in the player perfect to her so-so mood.

Perhaps it was more for her ego. The car, the apartment, and the move back to her home continent were all some desperate cry for attention.

It was jarring shifting from the hostility she received in London from her boyfriend and employers, to her born-and-bred southern family's hovering fuss. No one cared much for what she did, even after she got pregnant—though in the defence of the people she left behind, she wasn't exactly shouting that last part off Big Ben—but here, Jen and their parents hadn't stopped their inquisitive details about her health, wealth, the baby, and just about everything else.

It was profoundly annoying…and awesome at the same time.

Even now she caught her reflection in the rearview mirror and had some trouble wrestling some deportment of normalcy from her features which couldn't seem to decide between a pout any troublesome toddler would vie and a goofy grin matching the gooey pleasance of her insides.

This feeling lasted the rest of the drive across the border into Texas and downseveral familiar streets, finally pulling in behind a black minivan any suburban soccer mom would be proud of.

While she gathered her stuff from the passenger seat, Theodora saw the front door open and a small head of shocking red pop out. Smiling, she mimicked the wave her youngest nephew greeted her with before he disappeared into the house, returning shortly with his mother in tow.

"I'm here." Theodora said once she'd successfully extricated herself from her seatbelt and exited the car; walking up the driveway to the porch where Jen welcomed her with a hug.

"Yeah, and with four minutes to spare."

Suddenly realizing she'd been had, and that her sister had had the last laugh, Theodora shook her head at her beguiling naivety as she followed the other woman into the house.

With Jen it was always "how high?" and she would be duped into jumping until her feet throbbed. Her sister had that kind of domineering personality Theodora fell victim to way too often enough to learn to find the flaw in herself rather than in Jen.

They didn't get in anymore words past the greeting and the front door with the bouncing kindergartener circling their legs all the way to the kitchen.

"Auntie Teddy! Auntie Teddy! Are you really going trick-or-eating with us?"

"Well, hello to you too, Jackson. And yes, I believe I am going trick-or-treating with you and Flynn." Theodora's attempt at correcting the little boy went over his head.

"And what about a costume? Did you see my costume?" He exclaimed, turning to his mom. "Mommy? Can I show Auntie Teddy the costume yet?"

"As you can see, kiddo, I'm a little busy here. But maybe after dinner? Do you really want to icky it all up before you go out?"

Theodora smilingly watched him think about it, and then shake his head violently from side-to-side, like he wanted to throw out that image of a perfectly good Hallowe'en costume going to waste.

"Sorry, Auntie Teddy. But can I show it to you later after supper?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. Let's both be a little patient." Theodora reached down to stroke his hair, allowing him to lead her to a chair at the rectangular dining table. The little gentleman he was, he yanked a chair out for her, scrapping the wood floors with a screech. "Oh, Jackson, thank you. That was extremely well-mannered of you."

Here she shared a smile with Jen who nodded her approval to her son who'd made himself comfortable in the seat beside Theodora.

"What are you going to wear?" He asked.

"Me? I don't know." Theodora glanced down at the floral halter dress she'd freed from her overflowing clean laundry hamper. She hadn't the time to fold much of anything lately, despite being unemployed and still very much motherhood-free. At Jackson's disapproving frown and silence, she explained, "I didn't bring a costume this year. But maybe next year?"

"You can't go trick-or-eating with us without a costume!" He exclaimed. Unsure of how to tackle the upset in his tone, Theodora grasped at an appropriate explanation, something a self-absorbed four-year-old would understand.

"Don't worry, squirt." At Jen's interjection, Theodora tossed her a grateful look over the top of the little boy's head until she said, "You're aunt has the perfect costume."

"I do?" Theodora's question was more of blubber of words, her mind concocting the worst-case scenario.

"You do!" Jackson repeated her words. His tone, however, much more exuberant than hers immediately shamed her into compliancy.

Confused by the direction of the conversation, she shrugged her shoulders, though regaining her composure enough to direct a glare at her sister. "I guess I do."

This news bounded Jackson out of his chair. He danced around the table, hollering at the top of his lungs. "Yay! Now you're ready to go with us."

Though Theodora really couldn't stay mad for long, especially as the little boy's reaction was contagious.

Catching her speechless expression over the ruckus, Jen laughed. "You should've seen him this morning when I told him." She'd situated herself at the stove, stirring a pot of cheesy macaroni, and where she must have initially come from when Jackson dragged her out.

It's from there that a few minutes later she called out for dinner interrupting the rest of Jackson's show. "Cool! Mac and cheese! Hold the broccoli, please, and pass the coke."

"Nice try. It's broccoli and orange juice for you." Jen tuned out the protests, and a few minutes later doled out the promised serving of tree-like veggies beside the cheese pasta on the plate and she pulled out two fruit juice boxes from the beverage cupboard.

Jackson toyed with his straw, and Theodora felt awful at the rising amusement his miserable face gave her, like the juice and vegetable combo were signatures of death.

"If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll spend trick-or-treating here at home. No candy." Jen warned, setting a second plate down in front of the unoccupied seat across from Theodora.

That got a desired reaction going, still deciding to help him out a bit, Theodora crossed her legs and leaned over to nudged his shoulder with her own. "Hey? Want to give me some tips on how to get a lot of candy." _As if you needed the extra pounds…_

She had been tipping the scale lately, but she did always like the chocolate and candy part of the holiday season.

"Haven't you ever been trick-or-treating?" He asked, his nose scrunching up in disbelief.

Jen laughed. "Careful. You might be dating yourself, sis."

"Yes, Jackson," Theodora said, choosing to ignore Jen. "But that was when I was really little. I haven't been trick-or-treating since then. Eventually we grow up and become too busy for it."

"But mom goes every year. And she's a grown up. Isn't she?"

Now it was Theodora's turn to laugh, her guffaw earning her a glare from Jen. "Sometimes I wonder the same thing."

"Ha ha. Very funny, just yuk it up now. Hey, Jack, where's your brother?"

Jackson shrugged his shoulders at his mom's question.

"Wasn't he upstairs playing with you?"

"Yeah, but then I left a while ago to watch _Garage Band_ downstairs. I don't know where he is now." He replied over a mouthful of cheese. They clearly hadn't been teaching manners at his school.

"Okay, first off close your mouth." Jen ordered, watching as her son snapped his mouth closed before continuing, "Secondly, quit dodging your broccoli. Can you keep an eye out on him for me, Teddy, while I wrangle the other one down? Make sure you keep tabs on those greens."

It wasn't too long when Jen returned with another red head by the arm. "Get." She said, releasing her grip on his forearm and pointing at the untouched bowl on the table. "Or stay in your room without dinner playing that game while the rest of us go a-candy-begging."

"Hi Aunt Teddy."

"Hello Flynn. Ready to go trick-or-treating?"

Flynn managed a smile for her, despite the glower that still furrowed his tiny forehead. Clearly upset his playing had been interrupted. "Yeah, I guess." He shrugged. The older of the two, he was beginning to display the inertia of the season's festivities even though he had another month to celebrate his seventh birthday, it seemed like he was already well beyond his childhood.

It only reminded her how long she'd been missing from their lives. With this thought, it was hard to settle back into the easy flow of the conversation.

"Auntie Teddy's coming with us, Flynn." Jackson's grin slipped slightly after his mom replied, "Yes, but you won't get to see her in action if you don't finish your veggies."

Pinching his nose, he picked up the offending food piece and dropped it into his mouth. He held his nose until he grasped for his straw and washed it down with his fruit juice.

"Great. One down, but this outing requires you to finish it all up. Same goes for you too, Flynn." Her threat carried out, she returned to the kitchen and the pan she'd been scouring.

It was a long quiet dinner, concentration on the broccoli robbing the boys' attentions for the rest of the half hour. Jen had attempted a conversation with Theodora until she got a phone call which she confirmed to be her husband, Fred.

Theodora had just figured she'd go to the bathroom, as her rather short bladder was on a leash that just made her realize she hadn't gone at all in the hour-long drive, when Jackson turned to her. "Does that mean the baby is coming with us too?"

Jen had told the boys recently and they now made it a happy habit to drill her whenever she visited, which if her sister could have her way, would be every day. However in reality, at least once a week Theodora put up with the curiosity, perhaps even indulging in it a bit. Her denial put up a block that didn't often veer her to the thoughts of the life that was definitely growing inside her, so if anything, the questions these young children easily asked, were the same she had difficulty voicing in the presence of herself.

Among the abundance of queries old and new, there remained popular choices. Flynn's favorite question was 'What're you gonna name him or her?', and baby brother Jackson was always eager to find out if his new cousin was a boy he'd willingly pass his old toy trucks to, or if it'd be a girl, in which case he'd willingly split his birthday money to buy a Barbiefor her. Females were still a curious addition to his, thus far, small world of boys and he knew only what his preschool enrolment had just introduced him to.

By the time Theodora satiated much of the infantile investigation, the boys had finished their dinner—along with stomaching their vegetables—and Jen had replaced the phone on its receiver.

"All finished?" Jen asked of Flynn and Jackson who, having dried their well of amusement in the Q and A baby session, scrapped back their chairs and bounded away from the table with a chorus of 'yes, mom'. "Then can you please bring the plates over to the sink so I can wash them? And don't sit in front of that game all day. We're leaving in another couple of hours, but we have to start dressing up a little earlier. You boys don't want to miss out on all the good treats, right?"

Carrying their dishes over to the kitchen where they piled them on the counter, they lingered at the table when Jackson piped up, "Hey, mom! Can we show Auntie Teddy the new game? Is that okay, Flynn?"

"Sure, if she wants." Flynn said, trying for a nonchalance that failed when he looked at her with a small, albeit eager, smile.

"Umm, Aunt Teddy, do you want to see the new game dad bought us? It's really cool! I'll let you play with my controller, but Flynn's really hard to beat."

Theodora wasn't given the opportunity to response.

"That's enough, boys." Jennifer said over the groans of her sons. "It's time for Auntie Teddy and me to put on our get-ups. Say? Why don't you two go find out what your dad's up to?"

Not needing any other motivation, Theodora watched her nephews bounce off excitedly towards the basement entertainment area. Her watery, wistful expression didn't go unnoticed.

"They totally remind us of ourselves, don't they?" Jen dropped the dish cloth she'd been drying the last plate with and put it alongside the other table ware from the boys' messy mac and cheese dinner. She rounded the island counter gesturing for Theodora to follow her upstairs. "You were always throwing a tantrum, and understandably I suppose after dad and mom dumped another hand-me-down costume on you."

Jen led Theodora into her master bedroom where the latter could only guess a bomb went off. "Sorry about the sty. The boys dressed in here earlier and I didn't get to clean up much after them. We had another last minute costume change—"

"In which you mean meltdown." Theodora interjected.

Jen smiled. "Of course, and no less than five hours to alter an outer space Cyclops invader into a pirate king."

"I don't know how you do it." Theodora said, taking a seat in the least occupied furniture, the queen-sized footstool. She was always in a state ofreverence at Jen's multi-tasking mastery. Hands involuntarily rising to rest atop her taut belly, the thought of being a mother made her wonder would she be the same when her turn arrived in another half year. Not that she was particularly messy, only she knew that her life as a bachelor definitely hadn't prepared her for the coming duties of motherhood.

"Well, I'll let you in on a secret." She turned to her bedside table, opening a drawer to reveal the safe Theodora knew was behind it. Withdrawing a pail brimming with ice cubes from the safe, she pulled out the bottle of red wine being chilled by the bucket's contents. "A glass now and then numbs the effects of motherhood-prone insanity."

Theodora and Jen burst into laughter. Pouring herself a tumbler-full, she offered Theodora water in place of the wine. "Definitely one of the reasons I refused Freddie's bid for child number three. Forty weeks plus without a buzz is just a cruel sacrifice."

"And so says my borderline alcoholic sister."

"Hey. I like to think I'm setting a good example. You're never too old for a bubbly. Cheers." The sisters raised their glasses in salute before Jen sped on, "And speaking of goods, just wait till you see what I got us." Here she let out a squeal, exuding an excitement that rival her boys, she went down on her hands and knees, dipping under the skirts of her bed. "Oh my god," she called out to Theodora, "You're going to love it, Teddy."

"So why do I feel like it's the opposite." Theodora replied warily.

"Because you're paranoid." Came the retort.

"Or maybe it's because you've never invested any energy into playing adult dress up, Jen."

"Oh come on," Jen said, pulling herself and a big, brown box out from her bed. "Where's that spirit of sweet pranking?"

"Hey! I never was the trick type. I do, however, recall that being your role. And most of the neighbourhood knew it."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jen feigned innocence, making Theodora grin.

"How was it, then, that I always came home loaded with treats and anything you managed to bring home was confiscated by mom and dad after an all-out egg fest on half the houses on our block?"

Jen freed the top of the box, her nose held up high. "Well how do they expect a starving nine-year-old to act?"

"I'm pretty sure you stopped trick-or-treating at twelve." Theodora giggled.

"Yeah, that's what I said. Okay, let's change the topic. Close your eyes."

Giving in, Theodora shut her eyes, her hands tightening around her cup of water. The rustling of paper and fabric only roused her nerves even more, so she was relieved to hear Jen's voice commanding her to open her eyes shortly after; although that relief was short-lived when she saw the aberration of fabric in her sister's hands.

"Well, what do you think? And promise me you'll at least give it a chance."

"No way." Theodora blurted and her immediate repulsion producing a frown from Jen.

"Why what's wrong with it?"

"Please! What isn't wrong with it? I mean, look at that."

"What? And weren't we going to give it a try?"

Theodora got up and placed her cup atop a nearby dresser. Crossing the room she assessed the monstrosity of leather and cotton. The costume was the ugliest thing she'd seen. If this was what Jen had meant for her to wear down in the kitchen, then she had another thing coming. "No, I never promised anything. What is it anyways? Where did you get this?"

"Oh, you know, just what all good bar wenches would wear in ye olde times and something I found lying around from my high school days", here Theodora's mouth properly gapped open, "and in desperate need of a model. A beautiful, beautiful model."

Snorting her shock away, she shook her head. "Nice try. Now let's put Miss Waterhole away for good." Folding her arms over her chest, Theodora tapped her sock-clad foot, hoping her don't-mess-with-me stance folded this problem and that hideous outfit away.

"Okay. Let's both calm down and go at this again." Jen lifted the dress up, her face flushed with determination. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have flung this on you, but if I told you earlier, you wouldn't have come. It's my first Hallowe'en with you since forever. So please try it on for me."

Somehow that's why Theodora reasoned she was stripped down to her panties in the master bathroom a few minutes later, trying to figure out how to get the dress on.

It was a three-piece outfit composed of a black fluffy petticoat, a blood red corset dress and white thigh-high stockings. She shared a big bone structure with Jen and most of their kindred ship included sharing clothes, including costumes. Her parents never did like to see any good go to waste and that's how she spent every other trick-or-treat in Jen's recycled costumes. It was déjà vu from many a childhood Hallowe'en, only this was one outfit Theodora knew the 'rents would not approve of.

Mostly because her naked breasts threatened to spill from the low cut top, their size only aggravated by the laced corset pushing them up, right front and center.

Naturally plump, Theodora couldn't remember when she was a size 12 and under. It seemed all through school she was wearing a bra; going from being the last kid picked for gym activity teams to the first girl on every pimpled, pubescent boys' mind a few years later was a nerve-wracking experience she wasn't ready to repeat.

Her annoyance with her breasts rivaled her irritation with the gaudy underskirt didn't agree with granny-worthy panties she had come to find comfortable with the more recent—and as everyone kept comfortingly reminded her, natural—weight gain, the only other choice was to go san culottes….

_And that just isn't an option really._ Not when the thought sprinkled natural rouge over her cheeks. Any outfit that presented the chance of going commando wasn't something she liked.

No, definitely not something mom and dad would have liked either.

When she voiced this aloud, Jen laughed from the other side. "Then it's a good thing they're halfway to Italy."

"Are they in Verano yet?" Theodora asked. Their parents had recently left to celebrate thirty-one years of wedded bliss, or what was in actuality their belated thirtieth anniversary. The trip had been planned well ahead of Theodora's surprise arrival, so it was just one of many things that she'd been out of the loop upon her return.

"Not quite. They called earlier this morning about a delay with the cruise—something about it falling behind schedule. But they got to spend an extra night in Germany. A place called Fussen."

"Neat."

"So, are you finished in there or do I need to call backup?" Jen hollered, rapping on the door. "Hurry up."

After a couple of deep breaths, Theodora unlocked the door and stepped out to face her critic. A flash of light robbed her vision. Blinking away the optical breach, she wavered in place. "Jen!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I couldn't help myself though. I mean, getting you in that dress was hard enough. This is the well-deserved prize right here," she said, holding up her digital camera.

"You better delete it."

"Right now? How about I let you take a look later when you're calmer and then we go with the second opinion from there?"

"No. Now. Delete it or I won't go anywhere."

"Okay. Deleting—but only after you come with me. Outside. Like that."

Theodora groaned, throwing her hands up, aggravation pounding her head. "What do you want from me, Jen?"

"I want you to have fun. Do something you'd never do—"

"And with good reason." Theodora interjected with a grumble.

"Touché." Jen looked a little upset, and Theodora's hardened stance against her began its steady and sure disintegration. "I deserved that jab, but it doesn't change anything. I want you—us—to enjoy ourselves. Like we once did, like Flynn and Jackson do now."

It was a plea that she couldn't ignore. Unfolding her arms, she dropped her head. "I didn't know you felt like that."

A long pause stretched between them, and then Theodora said, "It's totally weird and funny to see you get sappy. If it wasn't the end of October I might suspect it was April Fools'."

"Get used to it. I want to appreciate what we have."

"All right. I get it." Theodora began, adding, "But is the outfit really a part of that?"

"Totally." Jen said, a grin wiping away the gloom from her features.

"I'll give you one hour then," Theodora said, tugging on the skirt only to have it flop back to its position a mere half-inch from flashing her rear. "Correction. Make that forty minutes."

"Fifty if you just give me ten to throw on mine." Jen said, tossing the words more over her shoulder as she bee lined out of the room, not allowing Theodora the chance to squabble over yet another small victory.

True to her word though, Jen breezed back into the bedroom just as quickly as she fled, barely allowing Theodora time to act on her contemplation to shuck off the outfit, run to the refuge of her car and pull a hundred-twenty on the Audi back home.

She wore a stunning white dress; the sparkly-tassel ends of the skirt brushing her knees, swaying with her movements forward to where Theodora sat on the footstool once more, legs pressed together.

"What do you think? Do I play a killer fairy or what?" She spun around and posed, her back facing Theodora as she showed off the wings she'd slipped on to complete the look.

"How inappropriate is this." Theodora said despite the smile tugging her lips. This whole situation really had to be addling her brain.

"Sexy and magical, why not?" She laughed. The sound infectious and Jen noted her smile with a smirk. "I see that. Nice to know you're finally cutting loose."

"Don't worry. My strings are very much still attached, and I'll be home in forty minutes."

Opting for a topic change, Theodora said, "Now that the costume's out of the box, and I know when you wore it. Where did you wear this thing?"

Try as she might to hide it, Theodora caught Jen's blush, the rouge sparking a light in her eyes that differed from the usual mirth that shined there all too often. "It was at a Hallowe'en senior's shindig."

"Shindig? Now who's dating themselves? So did mom and dad know? Scratch that. They so didn't know, did they?"

"Well, they knew Fred was picking me up and that'd he'd be dropping me off by curfew, but that's about it. The less, the better—and that dress is on the less side."

"Fred knows about this? Saw you in this?" Theodora screeched, already jolting up from her seat and high-tailing it back to the bathroom to salvage any dignity she had left.

Jen intercepted her, catching her forearm and pulling her away from escape. "No way do you get to sneak out of this."

"But Fred saw you in this!"

"And he won't remember it. Trust me. He can't even recall the groceries even with the shopping list in his pocket." She pulled them towards the door and back down the stairs, Theodora blabbering hypothetical problems all along the way causing Jen's grip to tighten on her wrist.

She directed them into the dining room and then down two carpeted steps into the living room. The area was spacious; the open layout expanding what could have been an otherwise stuffy area and the furniture—although not any grand material—was just worn enough to exude the sense of homeliness.

Jen relinquished her hold on her. "Now sit down and don't even think about running. I'm going upstairs quick things and getting the boys ready. Lord knows if they start playing their games they'll forget just about anything."

"And that's a bad thing because?"

Jen huffed, gesturing to her dress. "Do you know how long it took me to get in this thing?"

Theodora shook her head. "Not as long as it took to get into mine."

"I'm not even talking about that. It takes a lot of courage to put on something this…you know…revealing." She whispered. "Besides I've cheated every diet my way and my gym membership is rotting somewhere in my old purse, may Lord condemn it."

After they shared a quick laugh, and Theodora commiserated with her on the weight gain—yet something else they shared too closely—Jen left her with one last menacing look.

Instead of sitting, Theodora was drawn to the stone fireboard above the fireplace where pictures of Jen, Fred and the boys in the middle of various activities and at different locations adorned the stony panel. One by one she lifted each frame up for diligent perusal. Here was one where they must have visited a beach. She wondered if it was at the one-hour away East Beach over in Galveston, or if the trip had required an out-of-county visit.

Maybe out-of-state even?

She analyzed more of these, each a still shot of a joyous memory spanning many years and many occasions, moving across the mantelshelf until she espied photos she did recognize.

"She still has this?" Theodora mumbled to no one. The silver-gilded frame she held housed a picture of the two of them outside their parents' two-storey house, geared up for the hiking weekend Jen had sprung it on her. It was a congratulatory trip after Theodora successfully graduated high school with honours.

Three weeks later she declined her offer to go the state university and pulled together her part-time savings, allowance and money left from past birthdays and Christmases to book a one-way flight to Europe.

Hearing voices approach, Theodora replaced the picture, sliding away from the chimney piece just in time. "Okay, just wait there for a minute." Jen had called over her shoulder to, Theodora presumed, the boys, nodding to Theodora. She held a coat out to her. "Here. I figured you didn't want one and I don't want you catching your death of cold."

She was donning a black leather jacket herself, Theodora observed. "I'm fine." She began to decline, but Jen continued to hold it out.

"Just put it on. It's supposed to be pretty chilly tonight." When Theodora attempted to protest again, she said, "That, and I'm saving myself from any unnecessary comments." She nudged her head towards the entrance of the living-slash-dining area, past the partition that led out to the entrance where Jackson's incessant gabbling and Flynn's occasional comments floated through.

Understanding her thought process enough, Theodora grabbed the coat and slipped it on with a quick 'thanks'.

"Okay." Jen nodded her approval, zipping her own jacket. "Let's go do this."

At the entrance a chipper pirate and a pint-sized knight on a wooden-riding horse greeted her.

"Hi Aunt Teddy! It's me, Jackson! Err, I meant, Sir Jackson of the Circle Table."

"It's the Round Table." Flynn corrected, his only visible eye rolling. He reached up to adjust his eye strap.

"Is it too tight, Flynn?"

"No way. I'm fine, mom, for the bajillionth time."

"Okay, okay." Jen held out her hands in defence. "Just let me know if you need me to adjust it."

"Are we waiting for Fred?" Theodora asked when they didn't start for the door. Perhaps she was too eager to commence with the night's event and be 'done with it'.

"Yeah. When he called earlier he was just heading out of a final meeting." At Theodora's sympathetic look, she said, "To be honest I'm beginning to wonder if that promotion is really worth everything."

"Doesn't he make more?"

Jen shrugged. "Yeah. But at the cost of working late nights, weekends, and sometimes even through holidays. Some days we don't get to say one word to each other. By the time he gets home he's too tired—that is, if he is home.

It's either he's gone before I wake up, which is plenty early with these two rascals," here she pinched Jackson's cheek, "or he crawls into bed sometime after I've already fallen asleep."

As the newest Vice President of Marketing, Fred spent more time away from home in his office or at airports where he'd be heading off on a transnational flight to promote his company's services to yet another client. In turn his annual salary jumped from a decent five figures to a staggering six figure payout.

Although the promotion occurred a little before she arrived, upon her return Theodora immediately felt the tension between the two. Then Jen briefed her on the happenings she'd missed.

Theodora drank this information in. And at first all she saw was the benefit of what all that wealth could do for a family—let alone a pregnant bachelorette—but now she could understand the downside to the job. In particular the effect it was having on Jen's relationship with Fred. They were the most easygoing couple after Jen and Theodora's parents, and anyone who didn't know them could see the love in their unspoken cues.

Still right now she'd kill for the job. Okay. Maybe not kill. She didn't know anyone capable of that.

But she'd definitely love anything that paid more than decently even if the sacrifice including extra afterhours here and there.

Nevertheless, Theodora was aware the restlessness that wove an oppressive spell over them. By the time Fred's key was fiddling with the lock, Jen was all but jumping out of her skin and the boys dozed off on the bottom steps of the straight stairs.

"Where have you been?" Jen hustled to where he was slowly lowering his messenger bag. "Didn't we agree for seven?"

Fred blinked, slowly closing the door behind him. "At work. Where else? I told you the meeting would drag on."

"Yeah, and you also told me—no promised me—you'd be home in time. I only asked for one year, Fred."

He sighed heavily, running both his hands over his face.

"That's all you have to say for yourself."

"I'm sorry. I completely lost of track of time, and we were cinching out the details of one of our latest projects. The clients were located in Tokyo, and we wanted to catch them bright and early. "

"That's great. Some foreigners halfway across the world get your attention. Okay. That's fine, but don't apologize to me. I'm not the one looking forward to this outing."

Dropping his hands, Fred smiled tiredly. Theodora stood alert when his gaze fell on her, a friendly greeting at the ready. "Hey Theo. I didn't even see you there. How are you?"

"I'm great, thanks. What about you?" Theodora returned his acknowledgement with a smile only shadowed by the tenseness of the situation.

"Fine myself. I'm sorry I kept you waiting too." He said shaking his head. His eyes moved to the boys who had dozed off at one point and were now only waking at the noise. They rubbed their eyes, Flynn standing first and Jackson following his brother's lead.

"Dad, you're home finally." Flynn yawned.

"Yeah, we want to go trick-or-eating!" Jackson whined, rapping the end of his toy-horse pole on the ground.

As kids were wont to do, both children were oblivious to their parents' yelling and the nonverbal cues of tension in the air.

Another sheepish smile at Jen, and Fred breezed by her to their sons, his movements allowed a berth of safe space from the electrically charged air immediately around Jen.

"Sorry about running a little late, boys." His hands tousled their soft curls, before it slipped down to chuck each boy under the chin. "Just give me five minutes to ditch the suit and I'll be back for some trick-or-treat fun."

At his departure Jen snorted. "Yeah. A little late my butt." She said, her low murmuring heard only by Theodora who shook her head at her sister's hostile attitude.

"What? Don't judge me. I finally managed to catch a break and he pulls this."

Theodora's hard stare remained unconvinced however; Jen huffed and turned away towards the shoe closet. She pulled out some pumps and slipped them on, sitting on the elevated flooring to tie the straps. Then she returned to rummaging in the closet and, finding whatever it is she wanted, she turned back to Theodora with one pair of stiletto heels in one hand and a pair of kitty heels in the other, each of the straps dangling from her fingers. "So which will it be?" She asked, raising one hand and then the other in emphasis.

Theodora didn't blink snatching up the shorter heels.

"Wise choice. The stilettos are for us big leaguers." Jen grinned, placing those long, skinny walking deathtraps back in the closet.

"Put these on and let's go all ready. We wasted enough time."

With Jen ushering her out the door, Theodora barely had time to slip on the shoes let alone ask where they were going.

Jackson and Flynn seemed to know what was up as they did nothing but wave them off and chorus tired "goodbyes" after them. Jen rounded the van, clicking away the car lock on her way.

As Theodora made herself comfortable in the passenger seat, she asked, "Where are we going? Why did we leave the boys behind? "

"That's what Fred's for." Jen said, her head snapping back and forth from the back to the rear-view mirror. Theodora watched her car.

"All right. If he's going out with Jackson and Flynn, what exactly is it that we'll be doing?"

"Partying." Jen replied. Though the way it came out it sounded like they might be heading to a male nudie bar. With Jen it was always safe asking rather than sitting around in unexpected dread.

"And does this party espouse a clothing optional philosophy?"

"No, silly. It's a Hallowe'en one, of course. Hence the costumes."

Theodora sighed. "Is it too late to back out?"

"Relax. Only a few friends from high school will be there." Jen pulled a hand off the steering wheel to reach over and pat her on the knee.

The remark was odd, seeing as Theodora entered her freshman year just as Jen had graduated. They shared no friends in common, so once again her alarm of suspicion was ringing.

"Jen. Who exactly are these so-called friends?"

"You know, people. Acquaintances from the past."

"I need examples here."

Drumming her fingers on the wheel, Jen laughed nervously. "Well remember Ashleigh from next door and Kim from summer camp? They always host this adults-only party—and get your mind out of the gutter—it's just a little thing for the ladies. A kid-free and, some years when we're lucky, husband-free zone if you will."

Two blurry faces popped up from the recess of her mind. Try as she might though, Theodora couldn't entirely free those visages from the memory haze. "Were you friends with an Ashleigh and a Kim?" She asked after a long pause occupied with thoughtful humming.

Jen laughed. "Yeah, not surprised you don't remember. They didn't come around the house too often. Well, at least unless mom baked a storm."

"Anyways, going back to my initial point… Aren't we just a little too old to club?"

"Who said anything about clubbing? As a matter of fact I checked the place out myself before RSVPing and it's this upscale bar and lounge. Think Phoenix Underground—you remember Phoenix, right?—only way more chic."

Phoenix Underground had been a student-popular club they'd frequented when she was younger, and in fact the first club Theodora had ever entered once she was old enough to pass the card test. At least she knew where they were headed.

They stopped at a red light. As Jen continued to explain, she maneuvered them from the quiet streets of suburbia to the heart of the LA-1 and then streamed off the highway into the city of Shreveport.

"You could have let me take my car. We would have just gone our separate ways at the end of the night."

"Yeah, but that'd require you behind the wheel." Jen said; her worry colouring her reason. Instead of the hostility that she expected from her reaction, Theodora was astounded at the calming breath she opted for and a slight dose of silent treatment she punished her sister with.

The latter finally broke down when they eased into the visitor parking at a downtown Horseshoe Bossier City. The hotel towered before them in its entire sky-height, all-glass and metal splendor.

"I'm sorry, Theo. I shouldn't have said that. It's just the idea of you and the whole driving thing puts me on edge. I mean you're already pregnant and living alone." She said in the middle of placing the parking ticket she'd picked up from the pay and display face up on her dashboard.

"It's fine."

"But it isn't. Mom and Dad don't say much anymore, but they're definitely worried sick."

Theodora avoided Jen's saddened look. She felt guilty. Very aware of their concern for her, it was hard to finally here it voiced in a way she couldn't ignore. Like the pregnancy thing, it was just another item she catalogued in the dusty back shelves of her mind.

"I like the choice of venue." She shrugged.

Sensing her reluctance to talk anymore about herself, Jen replied, "I told you it'd be nice. A pleasant change."

Pleasant didn't encompass the glamorous definition of the interior. A spectacular chandelier surrounded by smaller overhead lighting flooded down on them. Almost immediately they were served at the front desk, a trimly-dressed young woman gave them the directions to Ballroom A where, at their arrival, they saw the party had already started.

The initial feeling of embarrassment of their choice—or more like Jen's choice, her thoughts snidely remarked—of seasonal attire dissipated at the sight of fellow partygoers in all ranges of Hallowe'en garb.

Surprisingly, familiar faces lurked all corners of the dimmed hall, and she returned the smiles and greetings under a splash of vibrating color from the strobes. Mostly women, though a handful men lingered for every dozen females.

Jen maneuvered through the throngs of people, leading Theodora with verbal instruction. She forced them to a stop in front of a group of six people.

"Hey Jen!" A blonde vampire partially detached herself from one of the few males in the room. "Glad you could make it."

Theodora stifled a giggle as Jen hesitatingly returned the woman's embrace. Her dear sister wasn't very affectionate, and public displays were always a foreign concept to her.

"Where's Fred?" The blonde continued to yell, her shrill only slightly dampened by the thrumming soft rock from the large speakers at all four corners of the room.

"Out trick-or-treating with the kids." Jen shouted back.

"Aww! You should have brought him!"

"You know I don't do the babysitter thing, Ash."

"Too bad. We rarely get to see him. Poor thing."

"Poor, my behind, he's always been able to head out and do what he wants. One year—no, pardon me, one day won't kill him." Jen's fury unleashed, she took a deep calming breath, and then smiled her apology.

Theodora's bemusement obvious at the wide-eyed expressions of the group; the woman Jen had called Ashleigh was the first to recover.

"Okay. We're totally cool with having you here, Jen. Always." She said, nodding, her lips thin with all seriousness. Her blonde bob cut bouncing up and down with the movement of her head. Then she redirected a smile at Theodora, adding, "And your plus one, of course."

This movement earned all eyes on her. Not sure how to proceed, Theodora opted to smile and make brief eye contact with each of the six strangers. All the while aware Jen was speaking. "Yeah, about my plus one. Guys, you remember Theodora, don't you?"

A few recognizing nods her way encouraged a brief "hello" from said plus one.

"My! Is that really little Theodora? Look at you, all grown up." Ashleigh clapped her hands together.

"Well it has been six years. She's done well for herself, I like to think." Jen said. The beaming smile warming Theodora's heart as it was about the only positive thing she'd said about her leaving for Europe.

"And we agree." Ashleigh nodded, turning her attention away from Jen and back to Theodora. "But when did you get in, sweet child?"

Theodora looked to Jen to see if she'd take the answer, before she said, "About two months ago actually, though it really feels like yesterday."

Ashleigh's eyes bugged. "Really? I'm not surprised. Jet lag can be a terrible thing to face. But if you're so tired, then what are you doing here? You dear, I hope you didn't come out for trouble on my behalf. Russell and I throw these little _fetes_ every now and then."

The equally fair-haired Count Dracula standing behind Ashleigh, whom Theodora now figured to be her husband Russell, smiled at her. "All the time." He agreed.

"Christmas, for instance. Jen knows we heart our baby Lord's birthday!" Ashleigh grinned at Jen for confirmation; the latter tipped her head, a surprisingly similar smile on her face.

Theodora didn't know what to make of their relationship. Jen and Ashleigh were such personality opposites a friendship seemed impossible. Yet here they were, talking like the best of friends.

She barely remembered the woman, other than the pronounced promiscuity, but then again she didn't recall much of Jen's friends. They were all faces that'd passed her in the halls or sat across from her at dinner.

"Hey? Where's Kim?" Jen asked. Her question redirecting the focus away from Theodora; the distraction earned her a loud huff from Ashleigh. Beside her, Russell cleared his throat and possibly the rant they all surely sensed.

"She called. One of her girls got sick. The flu's been running through school, so there's not much of a surprise there."

Jen hummed her agreement. "Yeah. Fred and I got our own scare only yesterday. Jackson came down with the chills in the morning, and we moved Fred out lickety-split. False alarm though. Thank God."

Everyone, excluding Theodora to who this information was old news, chimed in with their understanding. Everyone except Ashleigh.

"For the last time, Russell, I told you that child ain't sick. I went there myself. Being the giving soul I am, I baked her one of my Gran's scrumptious soups. Only to have the very ill," here she affected air quotes as she said the word 'ill', "girl open the door herself. And you know where she went after a curt 'hello'? Straight back to her pay-per-view film. If that's sick, then I should be on my deathbed."

"Ashleigh. Please. I'm sure Kim will iron out the fine details once she's home free. Besides, you know how kids are. Do Kenzie and Ryder ever listen to us when we ask them to stay put in bed all day? It's either the computer or the texting, or Good Lord-knows-what-else." Russell squeezed his petite wife's shoulder, his hands though they looked to be made to crush, handled her with a gentleness Theodora greatly admired.

"That hardly gives her an excuse. I mean, take Fred for instance. He has a perfectly good reason for his absence. It would have been all right if she hadn't lately been pulling the no-show stuff. Y'all know how her Samantha and my Ryder are basically birthday buddies? After we threw a smashing success of an eleventh birthday party, she calls in five minutes before we go to cut the cake to say neither Samantha or her will be able to make it. I mean, really?"

"Wasn't that because her grandmother fell ill?"

"Don't get me started." Ashleigh groaned, ignoring the implication of the woman's words in favour of Kim. "Can't she think up of a better reason? If you're going to keep at with the lying thing, you best make it a skill to master. She can't even get that right."

There were a collective uncomfortable rustling Theodora was glad to see, considering she felt strange listening to this basic stranger drill into an absent woman—who by all intents and purposes, to Theodora's opinion, had every justification to decline an invitation to the costumed soiree.

"Don't you think you're being a hardass?" Jen asked.

Theodora wasn't shocked by this outburst of opinion challenging the one-woman show Ashleigh was currently staging. Nothing could scare Jen, not even the threat of being kicked out by her hostess.

That stirred a passionate response for the rest of the numbed bystanders. It was amazing the peer influence one tiny hundred-pound, five foot two woman could hold over a group of six grown adults. Minus Jen, of course, to whom all present offered appreciative looks.

"She was positively haggard when I caught her at the grocery store yesterday afternoon. I called out her name, and Kim looked right through me. It took her way long to realize who I was, it was really heartbreaking." A witch with a tall, pointy hat brushed the stringy, waist-length black wig hairs from her face, displaying a large disapproving frown under her clip-on warty nose.

"Yeah, can you really blame her?" Another woman grumbled. Her blue-painted lips thinning and, although Theodora couldn't entirely be sure with all the face paint and whatnot, the scowl touched her brows suggested she, too, was unhappy. The blue-faced pixie crossed her arms then, shaking her head when Ashleigh snapped back, "You're right. I can't blame her. I'll blame her inept ability to socialize, time manage and lie."

"Oh my God, Ash, ease up why don't you? It's no biggy seeing as I wouldn't know what to do in her situation. I can't imagine grieving. This thousand-dollar botox can't handle the whole mourning process." Joining the witch and pixie, an angel piped up with her lamentable opinion.

At a loss to the content of the conversation at this point, Theodora eased closer to Jen to whisper her confusion. "She's talking about Kim's brother." Jen clarified.

"Brother? Why, what happened?"

The whispering was cut off by Ashleigh's prickly retort to yet another defensive comment on the absent Kim's behalf. "Listen. I'm not talking about that. We were all there. Don't you dare think I didn't care when Myron died."

"Myron's Kim's brother." Jen mumbled over the hysterics. "He used to go to school with us. Remember? He was in your grade."

The clarification didn't even yield a fuzzy image. Theodora had a close-knit group of friends. Other than the immediate members of her clique, she didn't talk to many others. Mostly because that meant she had to break down first impression barriers, and they always seemed impenetrable when it came to the fat, busty girl of a small town whose yearly census calculated just a little over five hundred school-aged children in total.

"No one's saying anything, darlin'." Russell's soothing drawl pulled Theodora back to the scene in front of her.

Ashleigh looked close to tears, a frustration clenching her fists at her side while Russell brushed a kiss atop her head.

"I can't believe it's been a year almost. Poor Kim. Knowing her, she's probably gearing up, celebrating the one-year by replaying the events over and over." Jen tsked, changing the topic.

"She wasn't in the car though, right?" The witch asked.

"No. But Myron was the one to drive her over."

"So it could have been her in that car as well! Oh my god!" The angel's utterance brought a new atwitter through the group.

This continued for a bit as the topic roiled just as astoundingly easy to other minor day-to-day inquiries and inputs. Eventually Jen had moved on slowly, as did other group members of which Ashleigh's husband was one.

Oddly enough soon Theodora found herself with Ashleigh only while everyone else drifted from group to group, chatting here and there.

Despite an immediate initial want to follow after Jen who stood far apart, conversing with people she didn't recognize, Theodora quickly learned the emotions were mistrusting.

Ashleigh wasn't nearly as bad as the earlier fifteen minutes in her presence had made her seem.

So the woman had her temper, but she also possessed her hearty share of Southern charm, and it sparkled after every sip from the champagne coupe she picked up from the refreshment table.

Being in her company was shockingly entertaining, making Theodora unaware of the passing time. During that time she explained a few things, like properly introducing herself by recalling some past memories where their school-aged selves had interacted; Ashleigh also shed some light on Jen's activities, and Theodora was clued into a martial struggle and a failed second career attempt. From here Ashleigh swung back and mentioned Myron. Steeling herself for another rant, Theodora tried her best to listen diligently and look the part of an active, sympathetic listener.

However having lost most of her steam on the topic, Ashleigh instead focused on Myron and not his absent sister, Kim. And Theodora was finally able to put a name to a face, and a face to a fuzzy memory.

Unfolding the photo, she held out the picture; her manicured fingertip tapping over the photo. "We took that almost five years ago, the first summer almost all of us returned back to podunk, Texas. Myron hadn't gone to college. He was working up odds and ends in Frank and Mimi's darling inn—you know Chez Mimi, Theodora, in Jefferson on Polk and Henderson?—saving up he said to open his own business. I think he was in your grade, wasn't he? You're twenty-four now, right? You're his age. Well, what I mean is he'd have been your age."

Theodora continued to study the image. The boy in the picture had braces and a perm the size of a melon, but the one dimpled cheek and bright smile deviated attention from those unattractive points.

"No luck? Not even a little."

"No. I don't really remember Myron. We didn't run in the same crowd."

"Yeah… But Myron knew his share of folk, the little busy somebody he was."

"When did he die?" The question seemed inappropriate and Theodora regretted it at its instigation of the forlorn, faraway glaze touching the other woman's eyes.

"About a year ago." And before Theodora could ask the 'how' of the death specifics, Ashleigh said, "A car accident. He was stupid drunk and even more idiotically driving."

_Strange._

All this talk of death triggered a familiar feeling. Although she never felt direct loss, Theodora couldn't put her finger on it, but it unnerved her even more than the colourful time still of a dead boy-turned-man.

Satisfied with the answers Ashleigh gave her so far about Myron, Jen and life in the community she grew up in, Theodora indulged a smile, handing back the photo.

Now the question remained as to why she had a picture of a guy who wasn't her husband?

But that was a topic she was much too shy and reserved to broach. If she'd been Jen with her brash personality she'd have easily drilled Ashleigh for an answer without so much as a twinge of guilt.

The rest of the time with Ashleigh was just as interesting. She began naming off people, pointing to faces and spinning anecdotes, with the occasionally snide slip of tongue once and twice souring what might have been entirely entertaining.

But definitely a fun way to pass time, at least until Ashleigh gasped, her eyes trained on something—or someone, as Theodora found out shortly—across the room.

"Now who are those studs?"

Ignoring the urge to remind her she was married; Theodora's curiosity had her pivoting around as casuallyas possible, her glance falling on the two men Ashleigh was no doubt referring to.

"Oh lookie! And they seem to have seen us." She then clicked her tongue after a long pause, "Or you. Looks like you've got yourself some admirers." Ashleigh said, her loud whisper carrying over to a few women standing nearby. They, too, seemed to have become enraptured with the mysterious attendants.

"You didn't invite them?" Theodora asked. Deafening herself to Ashleigh's last comment.

The hushed "no" piquing all their interests even more.

They stood out from the crowd, mostly because they didn't mix and mingle with any of the bash's activities. Standing at an impressive height, they loomed over the rest. As thick as they had to be hard, shoulder-to-shoulder the two males looked more like they belonged on a football field.

Dark hair smattered their bare arms, and more facial hair covered their leering grins once she locked eyes with them. A flush stained her cheeks, but her heart hammered more out of dread. If only looking away could solve her problem.

"They like you. Go say 'hi'." Ashleigh coaxed, sloshing her drink onto the floor in her bid to push Theodora in the direction of the creeps.

"No. I'm not interested."

"Fine. I am, so introduce me."

Looking to Jen for help, Theodora saw that her sister had been occupied by another group of friends, her attention wrapped up in what they were saying.

"Come on, Theodora."

"No. I don't even know how that'd work considering I haven't met them myself. Go without me."

"Oh just this once! Please!" She continued tugging, and by the time Theodora became aware of the drink in Ashleigh's other hand, she felt the liquid slosh onto her abdomen; the chilled pop raising the hairs on her skin.

Gasping, she lurched back, glancing down to grip the front of her skirt and the edge of her corset. Above she heard Ashleigh exclaim "I'm sorry!" over and over again.

Glancing up, Theodora opened her mouth with the intent of having nothing nice to say, but Ashleigh's furrowed brows and downturn mouth stilled her tongue.

"I didn't mean to." Ashleigh said past a pout.

She hadn't the time to reply as Jen, having extricated herself from the conversation she was in, flashed to her side, tissue at the ready. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just a little spill." Theodora replied. The tissues she accepted barely a match for the sopping mess her skirt was reduced to. Her words mashed through grating teeth. "I'm just going to clean myself up."

She crinkled the wet tissue in her hand and left Jen and Ashleigh, tracing her steps back to the lobby where she asked a bellhop the directions to the restrooms.

In the privacy of the small washroom, Theodora grabbed a handful of paper towel and tried her best to salvage the three-pieced dress. "Well at least it's black." She murmured. The dark material seemed to absorb much of the liquid accident. There wasn't much she could do, really, and after swiping at the fabric long enough, Theodora turned to the hand dryer.

Ashleigh walked in as she was holding the skirt out in front of her, relishing in the hot breeze that blasted down.

"Hey. I'm sorry again. I swear I didn't mean to."

"Don't worry. It was just an old costume from Jen. I don't think either of us will miss it." Theodora said, shrugging her shoulders at the reality. It didn't entirely wilt the anger though, but she knew that was mostly because the accident derived from such a stupid cause.

"I know what you mean!" The other woman laughed, the upset wrinkling her eyes instantly easing. "I usually end up donating these outfits." She said, sweeping a hand dramatically at her dress.

Nodding, the two relapsed into a silence as Ashleigh excused herself and slipped into a stall. Having relieved herself, her heels clicked up to the sink where she lathered her hands, her chattering dispersing the stillness once more. "So, when did you get back?"

Theodora pressed the button to restart the heater again, her eyes remaining lowered. She would have liked to pretend to not have heard the question, but then Ashleigh said, "It's just Jen hadn't mentioned anything about your return. How long do you plan to stay?"

"Actually, permanently." Theodora said.

Ashleigh's audible puff evoked a wince, mostly in dreadful anticipation of more interrogation.

"Really?" She said her tone overdramatic. "But why? Didn't you find a job in London?"

Cursing Jen's big mouth and poor choice of company, Theodora slapped on a smile. "Yes I did. I just hated being away from the family."

"Oh, you poor thing." Ashleigh replied, having moved from the sink to stand at the other dryer beside her. "I know what you mean though, I couldn't imagine leaving my husband, kids and friends behind. I don't know how you did it to start with."

Theodora pushed down the anger working its way up to her vocal cords. Normally she didn't express such a volatile personality; her pregnancy having flipped over just about everything including renovating her naturally meek, over-friendly, people-pleasing disposition. It also didn't help that this woman, however, was positively infuriating.

"Well, I'm sure you can work out that whole long distance thing. Though, if you want my advice," she said, leaning in, "I'd have asked for a stunner. It'd keep him on a diamond-studded tether hold until one of you crossed the Atlantic for your happily ever."

Theodora's stupid look instigated her to hold up her left hand and wiggle her fingers. The diamond on Ashleigh's ring finger was luminescent, but something told her the white-blue lighting in the washroom didn't do it justice. No, it would look much better out in the lobby where it might catch the overhead chandelier and lamp sconces and sparkle in all its brilliant glory.

Maybe all that light was dumbing her because she had no clue what Ashleigh was blabbering about now and she was almost afraid to ask for a clarification.

"Speaking of boyfriends, when do we get to meet this hunk? I'm a bit of a sucker for foreign accents."

Well, if Theodora thought she wanted to kill, she definitely wanted to do it now.

Catching onto the iciness that must have been drifting off her like waves, Ashleigh, having finished drying her hands, waved them up defensively.

"Whoa there! I didn't mean to snoop or anything."

"Who told you?" She said quietly, in direct opposition to the anger burning her chest. She focused on patting down her skirt and inspecting the wrinkles now creasing its front. Too bad the restroom didn't come equipped with an iron and iron board.

"Everyone knows Mrs. Forrest-Little's home is a perfect heaven on Earth. Really, your mom is the dearest being. An angel you might even say."

In between considering matricide and sororicide, Theodora acknowledged the sincerity of her comments. A tiny smile, the only truthful good humour she'd been able to bring forth in Ashleigh's presence.

"Thanks." She started saying, and just to ensure the end of the topic, she continued with, "Are you coming?"

Ashleigh shook her head. She seemed to have not noticed Theodora's gleeful mien, more occupied with spritzing herself with the familiar blue-bottled Britney Spears-signature perfume. "I'm just going to touch up on just about everything first. Nothing like a good party to wreck your makeup. Phew! Sweating like crazy."

Saying her goodbye temporarily then, Theodora followed the hall back to the lobby. Her immediate relief at having left Ashleigh behind was superseded by a rush of unnerving alertness.

It was the same feeling from the ballroom. The sense of being watched as she made her way through the lobby, her arms swung faster at her sides, heels clacking quickly on the stainless floor; all reactions to following the instinct to run.

Though she still couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, she succumbed to a quick glance around the room, but other than the same front desk lady who'd directed Jen and her to the ballroom earlier and the occasional guest streaming past no other soul frequented the lobby.

Having turned up no solid evidence for her persisting paranoia, Theodora brushed her skirt down and headed towards the ballroom once more, suddenly determined to have a great time.

Had she stopped she might have noticed the man watching her swaying ass with utmost precision, and the curiosity warring with lust in those purple-hued eyes that followed her up until she turned and took the short flight of stairs back to the upper hall.

Kanato Sakamaki prided himself on his judgment and this _ningen_ didn't pose any menace.

In fact, her curves suggested all the femininity of a woman destined to balancing sensual pleasure and caring motherhood. So the only possible risk was the familiar throb of his cock; a problem as of late, his libido had been unchecked with the nearness of the full moon.

Thirst demanded both a taste and a good fuck. One he was usually eager to indulge in, the other he found hesitantly debasing. Like every other full-bloodied male, he enjoyed his great orgasms, but sex was hard to come by and Kanato was a man of high standards. He wouldn't take any female to bed a point short of his list of wants.

So the one sashaying his way now earned the barest of glances, not even when she stood so near he could smell the fragrantly-sick bottled essence radiating from her incessantly small pores.

"Hello there, sugar. Aren't you overdressed for a wickedly hot night?" He acknowledge her roaming eyes taking in his long coat under which he wore a collared dress shirt, matching suede pants and dress boots. "Lucky for you this place has some fancy air conditioning. You'll fit in just fine."

He took the time to study her. This one was blonde too. Only the flaxen locks lacked the same sheen and delicacy of coif the earlier _ningen_ had. Her odd dressing matched the similar festivity the human calendar seemed to be celebrating.

Hallowe'en.

Nothing special in Japan, but the Americans, young and old, loved the seasonal lore and, in particular, the chance to don _ishō_. Kanato was almost embarrassed for the grown woman dallying around him. Had she no shame after all?

White fangs flashed at him. Plastic.

He grimaced, lips curling around his own authentic, preciously gifted fangs. It was bad enough the costume's poor measurements and fabric were of the cheapest and speediest quality, but the ironic mockery was despairing.

"What's the matter?" An uncertainty closed her mouth, thankfully covering those beastly-looking fakes. There was no point in alienating himself with the human, not especially when a particularly stupid plan roused his thoughts. Could she also be headed there?

Not that he didn't have access if he hadn't wanted to; truth be told, Kanato was wary to approach. Being caught in his position at the moment could ruin nearly a week's worth of trespassing. Following the mutts hadn't been easy. In fact, Kanato had had to clear his entire schedule. Jumping through loops to avoid detection back home and on enemy front-though nowadays he wasn't sure who and where his enemies were anymore; nevertheless, his pride wouldn't allow him to slip up—makiing a mistake was not an option.

His choice to partner with the werewolves had been made after his hand had been forced with the unsavory events of late. Kanato recalled their welcome. Getting to their main stead was hellish, covered by their impenetrable bodies. Slow beasts, but powerful in strength and stamina, then multiply their numbers and he almost died before breathing a word of truce and the truth of his purpose.

That had been two months and eight days this night, and he hadn't gotten any closer past their defences. He almost regretted his decision, and regret wasn't an emotion he was used to, let alone recognizing in shameful admission.

Taking matters into his own hand, snooping had brought Kanato a wealth of information. Such as it was the history of their underlying motives along with documents on human individuals; documents stolen from their low-guarded storage and now tucked safely away in the compartment of his mind. The papers themselves he'd burned after reading them. It'd be nonsensical putting them back, and it had been amusing watching the rabid dogs snap at their own throats and nearly tear themselves apart believing in deception with one of their own.

Time consuming as the activity was, it didn't disperse the shroud of mystery to the documents' purpose. Werewolves didn't mingle with humans, and so those grainy images starring up at him and the useless information ranging from DOBs to addresses and criminal charges only sought to frustrate him more and wear his already thin patience to nonexistent. The wolves hadn't expected much, and thinking they'd rid of his annoying presence, they left him alone, never suspecting nearly as much as they should have. No calls, no messages. Days of no contact and no action nearly wore Kanato down to brittle insanity.

Then he had a lead.

The mutts were on the move and their victim was none other than a female of the frail species so favourable to his' diet. Glad he'd trusted his instincts, Kanato stuck around long enough to rule out their motivation as horny desire. Male virility was a problem specific to their doggy kind; like their four-legged spirits, their heat cycle packed a punch of impulsiveness that led to their screwing just about anything alive, warm and with a hole.

But upon the confirmation that the woman wasn't the latest of their sexual conquests, he'd learned two things: one, she was very important. The wolves hadn't neared her once, only circling the shabby apartment she called home and any other establishment her sunshine-coloured aura radiated from.

And two, she must know more than appearances let on. Behind the plump swell of her breasts and roundness of her ass, the golden locks he'd figured looked better in the natural light and not the dark of twilight or artificial light his nature limited him to, and the fullness of her lips accentuated best when she smiled-which was rare in the few days since he'd first seen her-Kanato knew the female was a well of secrets. All he had to do was tap the right vein and drink her for all her delicious worth.

So the opportunity of getting closer was tempting.

It didn't sit well with him knowing the bipedal fur brains were in proximity of her, privy to whatever powerful knowledge she possessed, and he dismissed it as the residual angry mistrust at their hairy secrets and not for something other than that. There was no way Kanato felt anything more for the blonde target, especially anything akin to jealousy. The woman was just a person of interest, and a puzzle who he felt had the answers to his questions. Like, what connection did a human have to werewolves?

Tuning into this faux vampiress' babbling, he saw her presence in a new light leading down a new path to the same old goal: divulging his human target's secret.

"And that's what happened," she was saying, "can you believe it? Anyways, we managed to pull in last minute reservations with only the minimalist backhanded cash exchange and presto! We had ourselves a venue once again. Though it was a real mess calling each and every carded guest to reconfirm RSVPs with the new location. Not my glass of iced tea."

Then she smiled at him, the frown slipping with several bats of her elongated lashes. "So? Are you here for a party of your own? Or a little late night rendezvous?"

At his silence, she puttered on, heedless to the unresponsiveness of his unvoiced cues and still facial expression. Kanato was impressed at her tenacity, not that it made her any less cumbersome.

His eyes locked onto the lady at the desk. She'd stopped typing, all but leaning over the counter to hear their conversation. Her eyes transfixed on the exchange, but more so on him as when he caught her imploring gaze, she blushed

Younger than the woman standing before him, it remained him with a pesky reassurance the allure of his being; all through life Kanato was always viscerally aware of the effect he'd had on the humans species in whole, but particularly the attraction of homosexual and bisexual males and heterosexual females.

He'd found it easier to get what he wanted from these people with his masculine pheromones, than those falling out of these categorical boundaries.

Turning his attention back to the chattering human at his side, he decided her silence was neigh. Silencing her with the bare qualifications of a smile and nod to her party invitation; the slightest acknowledgement he could muster without touching her and snapping every bone in her body, starting with her neck, the seat of that untamable voice box.

"Great! The ballroom is this way. You'll be an excellent addition to the group. Oh, and don't worry about being a stranger. Half the people in there are plus ones, twos and threes." She said, starting forward. Her enthusiastic exclamation hurting his ears and making him rethink the whole snapping-neck course of plan. No doubt her voice carried to the young human behind the reception desk, who continued to assume her furtive looks went unnoticed by him.

_Ningen._ He'd had just about enough of them, though the night promised more if the sound of multiple hearts thrumming at different paces rung throughout the entire building, including up ahead in the direction his human target had moved, backed his intuitive foreboding.

"It's just this way." The woman's hand impertinently touched his, making him flinch. Visible confusion muddled her too-red mouth and raccoon-coloured eyes. "The ballroom's not too far. We just take those stairs behind the elevators." Again her hand moved, he compelled himself to stay still, watching her palm opt for the sleeve of his wool overcoat. The layers suppressed the heat, but the heaviness of her meaty flesh remained.

The glamour of the moment and the seediness of her attraction making her outwardly forget all about his earlier rejection.

At any other time Kanato wouldn't risk the assistance of a human, or the proximity of one during the waxing period of unquenchable thirst if he didn't feel an unsettling necessity draw him forth to accept her hand on his sleeve and allow her to lead him with senseless chatter and fake-fanged smiles to the ballroom.

Unfazed by the display of decoration upon their entrance, Kanato was more fascinated by the human patrons in the room. Well, specifically one. It wasn't hard to spot her again. His eyes were latently attuned to the dimness, even with the annoyance of the flashing party lights and ear-deafening music.

Her skirt tipped with her movement, exposing flesh she otherwise hadn't meant to denude when her hand came down just as often to tug it back in place. So modesty wasn't lost to all humans, which made him wonder why she was in the outfit to start with.

Watching her was problematic to his thought process. All he could do was stare and continue on a mantra-like mental chant singing curses to the voracity of his natural lust-fibrous core. Images of blood and sex pounded his forehead, pressing down on his temples.

With each passing moment the inherent hunter in him marked the woman as his prey. A combination of curiosity and lust driving him to nearly stalk over to where she now twirled alongside a brunette female, ply her with all his charm and lure her into his arms somewhere dark and preferably quiet where he'd coax a mixture of screams and moans from her. _How will she sound?_ Yes. Other than a good meal, her sensual body would only get that close to contact, his stiff dick be damned.

But any action on his part would have to wait. Eyes trailed to espy the mutts across the room. The brutes' attentions were absorbed on the human female, as if she were a novelty that was separate from the other fleshbags in the room.

Their absorption would be their mistake. While they remained stupidly fixated on the woman, Kanato would keep his distance, striking at the perfect time.

"Would you like a drink?" The question was a stab at casual, off-hand seduction and a brush of her chest lacing the words.

And now was not the perfect time.

This devilish human had tipped her breasts on his arm, her stiffened nipples doing nothing but extinguishing his lust and fueling an already short-fused impatience.

Kanato wanted only one thing more than a quick bite, answers-and the creature who had them was dancing carefree, unaware of the burden she had on him mentally and, he was loathe to admit, physically. And there was the rare smile; the especial treat that captured his attention easily from the talkative blonde one at his side and almost made all this annoying patience worthwhile. His blood-engorged penis ballooned in his silky boxers, tightening even more at the sight of abundant cleavage in a particularly daring dip backwards in the arms of her feminine dance partner. What would it take for her to smile at him like that?

The thought was laughable. Toss it aside he must because he wasn't there to make friends or play nice, so there'd be no smiles for him. She'd offer him nothing short of struggling and screaming, pleading for her life and the ridiculous sort he'd witnessed in his encounters with his victims.

So what was this disappointment plaguing his spirit? Maybe he'd do a first and attempt to makea victim's voice a few less screams. _Yes, there'd be no need to startle her._ And a little seduction couldn't hurt. A touch here and a taste there, and she'd succumb to what her female heterosexual programmed her with biologically—that is assuming she was heterosexual.

_It'd be a shame if she wasn't. _

Kanato's eyes fondled her form, visually stroking over the near-hourglass sweep from her breasts to her hips. She alternated between dancing alone, and then capturing the hands of the other woman and swaying to the raucous beat enveloping the room.

Nothing in the three days he'd surveyed her hinted at her sexuality. At first he thought she might have been married, but no husband ventured out with her, gracing her side. Then again maybe she was seeing someone; though that someone could be another woman, like the equally robust female currently twirling her into a faux-spin, but the resulting finish more endearingly humorous than potent of sexual chemistry.

He found himself moving closer, stirring through the crowd until he managed to wrangle his monstrous greed to an abrupt stop a couple of feet from where she danced.

Afraid he might have announced his presence, Kanato grabbed the blonde woman who'd followed him and spun her before him where he used her clingy attempt to slow dance with him as a cover. A whole head taller than his petite dance partner, Kanato peered over her head, oscillating his gaze from the wolves to their woman-target sensing a change when he noticed the first glance past between the two parties followed by a series of back-and-forth gazes.

So she did know them?

The only thing she looked like to him was a human, but this was the girl they'd been trailing for weeks. Lucky for him they hadn't yet caught onto his scent. Of course that could change very quickly, so being vigilant was essential; hence part of that vigilance remained keeping his distance and remaining in the embrace of his human cover.

Then in a similar display, they were making their move.

Stalking through the smaller bodies that paved a path for them leading to the special woman; her reaction was slow, only jolted when the dark-haired female dancing with her tugged her to stop and alerted her to their nearing presence.

"Hey sweetheart." The pet name was roiled out in a deep timbre by one of the dogs.

Kanato sneered at his attempt to seduce. Werewolves had a lascivious nature, bedding just about anything until they found mates to satisfy their rampant sexual needs. Still he imagined many a female panted at their legs if the group of women around them and the plowing scent of their arousal vouched much; hence he was interested to see how she'd handle the situation.

Their approach sent a fresh wave of timidity from her. Kanato watched her tilt her head at their address, her dark lashes fanning over her cheeks as she lowered her eyes away from their scrutiny.

She said something then. The whispered words were drowned out by the cacophony these humans called music, and his superior hearing only caught fragments of the conversation.

"…no…really…with friends…no…" A light, wavering voice, decidedly female gripped his chest and a vice tightened around his impertinent lower half.

"Just one dance?" The other asked, half-panting and eyes glued to her chest. Kanato's were too, admiring those heavy globes stretching the ties of the black corset covering them. But something about the other man's gaze there reared anger he couldn't quite explain.

It was a fury that the woman pressing against him had the unfortunate firsthand privy to.

She yelped; the sound quick and short. Unknowingly his grasp must have tightened, thereby extracting the reaction. Her vocalized protest hadn't alerted anyone, and he only grunted his apology; though his guilt was more directed to his almost blowing his cover rather than bruising the female.

Focusing on the mongrels once again, Kanato decided the fitting punishment would be to kill them both.

However a bloodbath would blow his cover.

Though having decided he wanted to taste her, the thought of leftovers sickened him. Kanato would just have to find a way to extricate her from the situation.

Though he soon realized he wouldn't need to.

In her favour she genuinely seemed disturbed by their presence, her body language screaming a mix of irritation and dread. Her shoulders stooped slightly from the weight of the former, but her posture was stiff from the vigour of the latter.

Her lips pruned and she shook her head.

Even with all these visual cues the dogs continued to salivate, their disgusting musky scent powering with their lewd inner workings.

Now the first one held out a hand to her. Kanato was pleased when her eyes avoided the gesture, her own tiny palm squeezing into a fist at her side.

Satisfied that no contact would be made, Kanato relaxed his hold and earned a sigh of relief from the woman in his arms. And things were fine until, at her companion's nudging backside behest she took the proffered hand, delicate fingers grasped into the mangy mutt's paw.

The upward jerk shook her body, jiggling those breasts of hers. Kanato figured the motion might be the end of him if he didn't touch her soon. And his wasn't the only eyes that fell on that enticingly swaying anatomy; neither did he imagine that he shared his hard-on alone.

He didn't dwell on that frame of mind, seeing as it stoked the flames of bitter resentment laying root in his chest.

Having yielded once, the wolves were understandably resistant to releasing the hold they'd gained on her quite literally when the first dog restrained her hand longer than appropriate.

She was flustered, cheeks reddening visibly at the slurring appreciation from the other mutt who hovered closer; so close, in fact, his face hovered over the woman's cheek. His words were clear, and they stung Kanato's ears from their heated, clear meaning.

Words empty of any real feeling besides their innuendo-laced instigation for a bare-back, tag-team romp.

Throughout this whole exchange the female remained quiet. She only listened with lowered-eyed discomfort and tightly-closed lips. So she was one of those shy creatures? And no matter how much Kanato willed her to dismiss their advances, she stood there, one hand occupied in the beast's palm while her auditory senses were flooded by the other bastard's dirty speech.

At the drilling instinct to launch himself before her, and with the image of her being coaxed into leaving with the wolves, Kanato made a move forward to push his dancing partner aside and stalk towards his blushing blonde goal when his ears perked at the sound of closing intrusion.

Nose-stinging cologne barely covered the natural scents of sweaty flesh and coppery blood. Kanato sneezed, releasing his hostess to give his full attention to the brooding male behind him.

The man was stout, slightly pudgy in the middle despite toned arms and he stood at an impressive head taller than Kanato, and it might have scared him out of fear of cover-blowing if the beating of this human's heart hadn't succeeded in making him hungry.

Dark brows bunched at the bridge of his nose and a confusing frown angled between Kanato and the female, though more towards the woman when he addressed her. "Babe? Are you okay?"

Not affording to look back, Kanato hadn't blinked at the clear insinuation of the man's question and made to leave the lovers to their squabbling. The annoying woman squabbled at the intrusion, shielding him from the human male by stepping in Kanato's path and barring his retreat.

"Russell! Manners, please. He's my guest." She said. Kanato might have appreciated the calculating casualness at her explanation, if the idea of her infidelity didn't anger him. The lack of loyalty in her lie disgusted him, and a twinge of pity went to the flabbergasted male in front of her.

"Sorry sweetie. I didn't see you leave and the room is kinda big. Thought you might've got sick or something, or the babysitter called in with some bad news." His emasculating blubbering wiped the slate of pity clear in Kanato's mind. Not the only audience member of this little charade, a glance around produced an uneasy number of patrons who'd stopped their festive-making to eavesdrop on the conversation.

He didn't need to put two-and-two together, and although not risking a look behind, Kanato knew if the wolves hadn't already clued into his presence, they'd eventually would at the rate and direction of the back-and-forth between this pesky couple.

All of this solidified his resolve to leave and rounding about his dance partner, he focused on the exit parting the crowd with his swaying overcoat.

"Wait." Footsteps and a tug at his elbow only propelled him forward. The woman was inexorable, and she took his rejection as an invite to cut him off yet again. "Don't leave yet. The party's still on. And Russell there doesn't," this label was tossed over his shoulder, and Kanato presumed her ugly glare had to be reserved for this Russell, "mean nothing with his crassness. You're more than welcome to stay, if only for a small bite and a drink."

Skewering her invitation, Kanato's famishment conjured up a heavenly scenario where he had both privacy and a period of pause to bite to his content and drain her throat dry, stilling anymore of her verbiage.

"Hey, buddy. What's your name?" Sensing a probable confrontation the woman stepped back, her hand falling away from his elbow just as another biggerpalm fell on his shoulder. Unflinchingly Kanato turned to confront the hostility edging the man's tone.

Opening his mouth to reply, the woman interrupted, running past him to tug back her envious lover by his forearm. Then another squabble started.

"What are you starting? Stop, Russell. Leave the poor man alone."

"I just wanted to know where he came from. Never saw his face before. And don't say his some friend of yours."

"He was waiting for someone in the lobby. I invited him to the party." Then clinging onto his shoulder she tiptoed up to whisper, "He looked so lonely."

In response, the male patted her arm, the tension of jealousy immediately dissipating with several understanding shakes of his head. Sometimes Kanato lamented his sharp hearing.

He then turned this understanding on Kanato. "Sorry man, my bad. Must be the alcohol talking, but it's like the lady says, the more the merrier. Enjoy your stay."

Unsure of whether to kill him or to laugh in his face, Kanato opted for neither, risking a quick glance over his eyes to the spot where he'd last seen his woman-target and the wolves.

He almost felt relief drown him to see that the dogs were nowhere in sight, but the woman was safely ensconced in a circle of other females, one of which was her earlier dark-haired dance partner and the instigator pushing her into the mutts.

The observation made, he turned away from the couple with the briefest of nods, reserving his voiced excuse.

They finally let him go and he was able to slip into the comfort against the furthest wall, relaxing into a vigilant watch for the rest of the party's duration.

Not that he could enjoy much. Ravenous mania reared its sharp fangs, corrupting his vision and jumbling his mental processes. This entire internal fracas was making it impossible to concentrate on the whereabouts of his woman.

_When did she become your woman? _Kanato figured when he concluded to feast on her as soon as he could get her alone.

So the party's culmination couldn't have come sooner.

The human female shuffled out with the group, and he trailed closely behind her. A floral, spicy rich scent perfumed the air behind her; the smell rousing the hunger to a fever pitch.

A fear slowed his steps, allowing the crowd of humans to swallow her out towards the entrance, separating him for a moment to rein in his base instincts.

But the drumming in his head from the sensual overload knocked him out. Somehow he found himself staggering out of the building, vision dimming, limbs tingling and tongue nearly lolling out of his mouth.

A frigid wind whipped at his heated cheeks, nursing the fiery frenzy parching his throat, steaming his ears and boiling his heart.

Unable to recall the last time he fed, Kanato fell back on cursing his lack of foresight. He didn't need this happening right now of all times, what with the wolves out of sight and no doubt up to trouble, and their shared interest in that woman who but all screamed food and sex to him.

"_Shimata_!" The gnarl surprised him, roiling out of him suddenly in the voice of the appetite's anger.

A quick decision to recollect his thoughts and being in the comfort of his car and its tinted windows pulled him into the memory of his fantasy only an hour earlier of using the vehicle as the setting for wheedling out anything and everything from his voluptuous victim. Too bad he was heading there alone and, worse, with no clue as to the _onna_'s current whereabouts.

The second big problem would be figuring out what he'd do once he made it to his car.

The craving would not be sated until he offered it the nourishment it requested, and although Kanato imagined he wouldn't have to look far for a quick meal, the thought of straying too far put that option to a quick death.

"Hey, you."

Then again, maybe the meal would present herself in all her annoying finery.

Though his eyesight was lost to thirst, a whiff of her sweat-laced floral perfume and the sound of her tinkling laugh produced the same grating at his insides even with half his senses at his disposal.

"Hope you enjoyed yourself at the party." She said as he slowly turned to face her. He gifted a blind smile, pleased to hear the breathy hitch in her voice next. "It was swell meeting you. I'd like to think it was _kismet_. Speaking of _kismet_, I hope you found whoever you were looking for, and that the party didn't distract any late night hotel room visits. In fact, I'd love to invite you to our little holiday festivity later on this year." She laughed again, her heart drawing near as she moved over to step within hands' reach. "If you're in town long enough, stranger. Now come to think of it, I didn't catch your name."

The thick lub-dub of her heart and the whooshing of her blood overtook her words. Kanato couldn't have stopped the growl even if he wanted to. And he wanted to.

It was way too early, but there was the sound, low, hunger-induced and oh-so-promising of near death. He didn't need sight to know his fangs were visible, white threats in the vibrating darkness around them.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and her heart, in response, did a little kick stirring the blood under her veins; arteries he'd soon sink his fangs into if all went according to the impromptu dinner plan.

Kanato anticipated screaming, and in safe measure he crowded her back, prepared to restrain her if need be using his tactile facility.

What he didn't expect was the tittering. Kanato tilted his head, disarmed by the laughter while a breeze twirling around his teeth. _Was the woman demented? _ Where was the screaming; the running; the pleading?

Now she had the audacity to come closer, hands securing on and squeezing his forearms.

"Oh? So that's what you were. And here I thought you were underdressed." She giggled, patting his chest. Her hands got bolder as her swatting at his abs turned into a light caress. "So you're a vampire, too." She said, stating the obvious and not so obvious at the same time.

"You are a dangerously handsome one, but I won't let my marriage vows suffer." She wagged a finger in his face, the ring there not going unnoticed, and it helped that it flashed under the rays of nearby parking lot pole lights. "See? I'm already spoken for, so I'm going to have to say goodnight' even though I'd love to get to know you more."

The man from earlier came to mind.

"So," she was saying, "I'm going to wish you good night before one of us do something untoward. Drive home safely now, stranger." He heard her turn away, heels scraping the pavement.

For all the times that night she'd stopped his attempts at escaping, for once Kanato halted her from leaving.

In actuality he wanted just that: her disappearing from his life forever, but he also required her blood.

He could feel the protest of her muscles under him. So she wasn't entirely stupid fearless? Fearing him was a good sign of her mental well-being.

Struggle she though she may, she didn't have much of an option. Kanato knew the alcohol in her system numbed her senses even more and her offended demand to have him release her came out garbled. Her hands flitted out at him for only a moment, and then they clung to his shoulders, drawing him closer.

They clearly didn't have the same thing in mind. Usually he'd thoroughly luxuriate in a meal preparation, but right now hunger had him driving his incisors in deep.

Kanato grinned into her flesh, the small gesture subsumed by the taste of her blood. All tart from the chemicals of her chosen beverage of the night coursing through her bloodstream. If he wasn't careful, he'd get a whiff of the aftereffect himself. Vampires couldn't get drunk, but a good dose of blood with the added alcohol could incapacitate him. The last thing he needed was being found out here on the floor by some human.

_Or worse. Greeting the rays of the sun._

He shuddered at the thought, clinging to the wound nourishing his ravished spirit. Slowly he was gifted with his senses once more. Eyesight returned, and he could now see the frayed ends of the woman's shoulder-length hair; his fingers stopped their numbing nerve loss as well, and for proof, his grip tightened around her mid-back, prompting more of her flesh forward for his incisors to grasp.

Just when it was getting good he heard a sound behind him. In all honesty, he'd heard it earlier, figuring any passersby would get an eyeful of two lovers necking and nothing more. Humans could be so naïve that way.

But the scent that assaulted him, a combination of tangy citrus and some other fragrance he couldn't pinpoint, had frozen his movements, ridding the desire to feed. This uncertainty had lifted his head from the wound, surreptitiously glancing through the veil of his bangs to spy his intruders.

His fair-haired prey, Blondie, stood there, her mouth opened wide and her eyes switching from surprise to disgust very quickly.

Her equally buxom, dark-haired companion from earlier gripped her arm and dragged her away; she, too, offered her own acknowledgement of bare revulsion.

Kanato caught bits and pieces of their conversation as they walked away.

"You can't just do that."

"But that was Ashleigh, wasn't it?"

"Yes," the confirmation was hissed. "Not that that makes a difference. PDA should be banned. Ugh!"

"But what if her husband—err, Ronald sees her?"

"Russell wouldn't have the problem if he kept an eye on her. Ash was always weak in the knees in the commitment department."

Their conversation rung clear as did the heavy sigh coming from Blondie. He thought of going after her when she asked, "So? Did you know the guy she was with?"

Though what he'd do he didn't know. Perhaps something along the actions of pulling her from her friend, hoisting her over his shoulder towards his Infiniti-Q50, where he'd finally hold those curves in place and drink her to submission, all the while willing the answers from her elusive person.

It took a lot of willpower to adjust his mind frame back to the present, missing the answer to her question; the sound of more voices nearing forcing him to leave Blondie and her friend alone at the moment.

Kanato looked down at the bedazzled woman leaning against the side of a parked car, one hand raised to her wound and the other reaching out to press against his chest. _So her name was Ashleigh?_

The information wasn't pertinent, but the blood on her hands and the necessary cleanup now was—and very much so. He didn't need to create an alarm. Kanato might have lingered for a second helping; however, his earlier meal wasn't settling too well and then there was his preoccupation with his target. Right now, Blondie's secret meant more to him than a meal, and he could function well enough with what little this Ashleigh had given him.

So instead he dipped into his coat pocket to pull out a plain white handkerchief. Brushing her hand away and applying it against her wound, he placed his other hand under her chin to lift her slightly lowered head and assess her eyes for any malignant signs of impending death. Other than her eyelids drooping over intersecting pupils, their position crossing into a funny look, she looked fine. Under his fingers over the wound, Kanato could feel her tone—light, but firm heartbeat confirming his supposition. _She'd live to see her coming sunrise._

One less problem to deal with; death would have encumbered his wish to leave the situation as orderly as possible. Her hand lifted to press over his, curiosity dancing in her orbs, rousing some consciousness. "Wha-?" Her question trailed off.

He didn't have the time to answer anything. He owed her and her species no explanation. An irritated impatience had him pressing the wound down in silent communication, before his grip slid out from under hers. She made to follow his hand, the handkerchief threatening to flutter away with the occasional gusts of night air. Kanato covered his hand on top of hers, squeezing firmly demanding she hold her hand fast.

Doing all he could do—that is, granting her life, he turned away from completing an unnecessary burial. He approached his car in swift movement, fingers pushing at the car lock he'd slipped from his inner breast pocket. The reassuring beep was followed by his slipping in and settling behind the wheel.

Kanato couldn't tear out of the parking lot fast enough, scrapping the initial plan to follow her ride home, he headed to cut her off and toeing the driving limit made that a sure enough possibility. He'd await her arrival, and Kanato decided he'd be the first to welcome her home that night.

Her dwelling was a shabby excuse for a shelter. Two twin buildings within a short walk from their respective entrances. Blondie lived in the closer of the two to the side of the road he'd just pulled off of, past some lone baby spruces and up the stretch of pavement past the section marked "Only Residents" to the nearly filled visitor parking.

Slipping his car in the designated area for the latter beside two other visiting vehicles, Kanato killed the engine and kept his eyes on the same path he'd just taken. She'd have to go by him in that red car of hers to park in her lot before heading up. He'd follow her in then just like he had so many times before, only this time he'd brave knocking on the door, pushing her in and helping himself to the queries deprived of him.

Yes, he'd be patient.

Five minutes became fifteen and a quarter of an hour easily became forty-three minutes when he depleted his already short reserve of perseverance.

Meanwhile there was nothing in the car to amuse him. He detested music, and barely turned on his radio. Reading always put him to sleep, and he'd recently stop snacking, finding his sweet tooth a weakness he'd lately began to abhor.

Just when he thought he was seriously considering breaking something to diffuse his anger, someone already bested his mindset.

The car roof caved in from the crunch, the metal denting inwards. Snapping his head up, he narrowed his eyes.

Calculating the source of danger was his priority, so Kanato remained seated until he could verify the threat. Though he already imagined what and who had done the devastation.

The roof creaked under the weight, and he followed the sound of the approaching pressure. His reaction time to the cracking glass at his side was slow from his rapt attention above him.

The clawed paw dug into his arm, nails embedding into his flesh. Instead of fighting with his attacker, he followed their motion. Unclasping his seatbelt, Kanato allowed himself to be dragged out of the car via the smashed window. Of course he knew the route he chose would be painful. The agony came in point when the broken shards around the window's edges sliced up his side. He didn't voice his distress, concentrating on what he'd do to the insolent fool once he got outside.

The force of his opponent had him sprawled across the pavement a few yards from his car, for only a moment; however, as Kanato breezed to full height before he even took his next breath.

"So, we have a stray." The bastard growled, his gall angering Kanato. Which was fine, that wrath would soon be put to good use.

If he wasn't so primed on the image of ripping the wolf's head off, Kanato might have commented on his Interesting choice of words.

"I don't know what you've seen or heard, but I don't care if the boss has got you on a leash. You're dead asshole."

A crunch came from behind and Kanato watched the second mutt crouch low and leap off the roof of his abused vehicle.

"Why don't we just bury the small fucker in one of his creepy coffins?" Number Two said, an ugly grin redirected from his companion to Kanato as he asked, "Hey? You'd like that wouldn't you? Getting a little hard-on for that, huh?" The wheezy chuckle incited another snarl from his companion.

"No. That'd be too merciful. I'm gonna pull your fangs out and feed some to you and shove the rest up your ass."

Crossing his arms, Kanato closed his eyes and absorbed the insults, turning his rage inward towards the power he'd require to even the numerical odds.

His meditation was interrupted when a long silence stretched on. Realizing they'd stop talking, Kanato's eyes opened.

They now stood beside each other, both eyeing Kanato like a slab of meat they might cannibalize at any second, and if he was a weaker opponent they surely would have already been licking his sinews clean and picking his flesh from between their teeth.

Both sides taking stances, Kanato waited for their first move. He wasn't going to attack head-on. No. His plan required that they initiate their violence.

But of course he had to get them started.

Uncrossing his arms, Kanato sped to one side. His feign of fleeing triggered his enemies' required movements.

The larger of the two plunged forth, barreling straight towards him. Kanato leaped on a nearby car, landing agilely before cartwheeling over onto the back of the car just as the mutt landed on the hood of the homely-looking vehicle.

Metal crunched and twisted under the werewolf's weight. Not waiting for the next attack, Kanato sprung off the back, spiraling through the air and barely dodging the leaping claws aiming to do their part on his body.

"Fast fucker, aren't you? Think that speed of yours will keep you alive, huh?"

Choosing to ignore him, upon landing Kanato slammed his hand into the black Nissan at his side. Flesh stinging from the brunt of the breaking glass, he savoured his prize for the effort. A security lock he pried from the steering wheel by pressing the pad of his index finger on his thumb snapping the junction of the bar from its firm lock around the 3 o'clock and 9 o'clock, and finally straightening to address the growled swears with a small smile.

"Think that's going to save you? I'll beat that smile off your face with that thing." The mutt's last words were lost in the bellowing charge. Kanato, in turn, leaped once more from harm's range. And yet he still came at him, matching the natural werewolf fortitude to Kanato's agility and their stamina evened out as well. Neither wolf nor vampire was winded as they danced across the parking lot, likening warriors settling an as-of-yet named score.

All the mobility was beginning to frustrate him, mostly as this made getting close enough for a counterattack very difficult, if not impossible without corporeal impairment.

"Let's see if you get close enough!" Another car totalled. A dying car alarm squealed, its offbeat ringing squelching through the fight. Afraid the sound would ruin everything by altering the human tenants of the apartments behind them, Kanato moved towards the boisterous contraption, planning its technological death.

Only to be intercepted by the wolf who seemed to have the same idea. Circling the vehicle, ears perked for the source, Kanato watched him stick one calculated thrust into the hood just directly before the windscreen. His hand came back out with the victorious item, the alarm brain and the wires snapping off as he hurled it towards Kanato with careless force.

Dodging the projectile easily, Kanato almost grinned at the ludicrous situation and the failed two-bird-one-stone attempt. But while he was concentrating his sights on the flying car alarm, he nearly lost his arm at the passing furry horsepower on his side.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have rats to drain, or a coffin to shag a corpse in?"

The comments didn't rile anger; in fact, Kanato was more amused at his trying diligence to upset him.

"I want your girl." Kanato replied, tapping the length of the lock bar against his leg while busying his other hand in his coat pocket.

At this the mutt's glower darkened, spelling a sinister doom. "I don't know what you think you're up to, but you better fuck off, sucker."

"And if I don't? What if I told you I want to eat your little friend? That it's her body that I'm seriously considering to drain tonight? Not quite a rat, but I suppose she'll have to do."

More growling then no more words were exchanged as the flurry of battle movements resumed.

Throughout the dueling tango Kanato was bidding his time, waiting for a stroke of opportunity. He found it in the form of a flood of car lights washing the entrance. Concealing his weapon he stepped out into the way of the car. He got a response of squealing tires for the action, followed by a pause and then the expectant honking. Timing his flip backwards just as the wolf cracked down on where he stood, Kanato settled on the roof of the car above the heads of its emotionally and verbally-distressed humans.

He expected what would happen next. The wolf flashed over to the passenger side to break through the window, freeing the muffled screams locked inside.

Running with this planned trap of distraction, Kanato dived over his head, landing with his back towards the mutt before leaping up and spinning around to crack the rod against the dog's back.

There was a menacing bark over the hysterical pleas from the humans, followed by a squeal of tires and the jerking headlights backwards. With admirable motor skills, the driver had wheeled back onto the lightless road leading back to the main center of this small American city, tires squealing their departure.

Lucky for the humans, neither wolf nor vampire paid them much attention. Their fight commenced with the mutt on one knee and his slighter opponent standing still behind him.

Having branched a distance between them once more, Kanato watched what would surely have crippled a human yield a momentary loss of sensation from the wolf. His recovery was imminent, Kanato smiled at the sound of the rumbling roar. _And so was the rabid rage._

Recovering his grounding, the wolf took off on a sailing launch where his slim, smirking opponent stood.

Prepared, the bar struck the wolf's fist, deflecting the direction of the intended blow.

And it went on like this as Kanato slapped each blast from powerful punches with perfectly angled slashes from his metal bar. And just as he thought he might actually finish this much earlier than he'd initially calculated, overconfidence blinded him into misdirecting a bold kick.

Instead of his boot meeting the flesh of the beast's chest, the mutt got a fast hold on his leg. Brute strength tugged him forward and rammed its forehead against his own.

A groan escaped Kanato's lips as pain flashed a white blinding light across his vision. He felt the ground greet him, offering its own back splash of agony as the back of his skull cracked against the gritty cement. These actions launched the lock bar from his grasp, the sound of its clattering to the ground lost to the ringing in his ear from the direct head-crushing blow.

Down there he was treated to a machine fire of powerful punches and the occasional kick.

Remaining face up, Kanato jerked to each blow, silencing the burning wounds by working his fangs through the flesh of his lower lip. He felt the wetness, smelled the coppery sugar of his blood and whiled away his time to return the retributive favour.

"Not too big now are you?" His assailant bellowed over him, more a statement than a question. "You're going to die down there, y'know. Those humans will be back and they'll find your corpse. Poor fucks."

Kanato caught his attacker's large, muddy boot and using the wolf-man hybrid's own sturdy frame he hauled himself over onto his side, aiming a crunching upward stomp to the bastard's balls.

The loud whooping groan satisfied Kanato, along with the mutt's receding shadow as the kick to the dog's most sensitive nether region had him stumbling backwards.

His retreat allowed Kanato the reprieve to gather the rest of his health and stand up without interference. The bones in his rib cage flared to a rueful start. Normally his injury threshold was much stronger, but having taken very little nourishment as of late, it would naturally take even longer than usual.

Speaking of blood, he'd loved to get his hands on a human right about now. Blonde hair, breasts almost busting from a laced corset and a sinfully short black skirt came to mind, although he'd truthfully settle for just about anything and anyone, he still had his preferences.

_And Blondie was definitely a preference._

It's too bad he let the humans go. A whole car full of blood gone; they'd be back soon enough, however, with human authority no doubt, and that would be problematic.

They were a while away from help, so he had enough time to wrap up this fight in that critical interval. Still didn't make the idea of enlightening any of their stupid species of the existence of other varieties of life forms. Humans could be a dangerous bunch if they were provoked… Vampire hunters were a great example of a product of such provocation.

What he needed to do now was focus on finishing this little _tête-à-tête._

As he stooped to lift up the lock bar to do just that, Kanato was alerted to the heavy footfalls of danger behind him.

No sooner had he sidestepped with the metal pipe in his hand did mutt number two soar past, beating the misaimed fist meant for Kanato's head against a dark green Toyota ahead. The metal of the passenger door squealed with the force, window cracking ugly lines from the bottom upward in a design of zigzags.

Detaching his hand from the mangled property, this slighter monster graced Kanato with a wide grin. "You've gotta die now."

"Says you." Kanato said over a quickly spreading maniac smile, all the while tightening his hand on the lock bar. There was no warmth exchanged in their mirrored expressions.

"Back off. He's mine, Reich." Kanato didn't have to check to confirm where the snarled command came from. The grunting and shifting told him that the first wolf was still nursing his injury down south.

"Not if I get him first." The one called Reich said, barely finishing his words as he propelled forward once more. Kanato flipped to the side and then began to leap ahead, always a distance from the tag-along threat.

Another low-bellied verbal expulsion to his right forced him to glance over to affirm the presence of mutt number one, who fared from the trauma to his lower half apparently.

"When I get my claws on you, I'll tear you to fucking shreds." He boomed as he jumped alongside Kanato, standing strong to that promise with a few hit-and-miss swipes.

"Hed, you're too damn slow! Let me take care of this one!" Reich half-whined, half-growled his request. It went unheeded by his partner, however, and now they both trailed after Kanato, each vying for a chance to kill their vampire target.

It was insulting to think they'd be bickering over who'd kill him, almost like they expected him to roll over and die, or in this case stop running and let them go at him. This thought made him grip the lock bar tighter and head straight for the brick wall of the apartment with both wolves dogging his movements.

Generating what he calculated to be the correct speed, Kanato lifted one foot, rushing it straight forward. The thud from his boot connected with the brick satisfied him, as did the giving cracks from his vampiric strength, but that was all short-lived as he concentrated on rounding his other foot through the air, then kicking off from the wall entirely.

The thrill of the flight combined with what would come next elicited a chuckle from Kanato. Sure enough the wolves clamoured to a stop as they registered this and his new position behind them.

The first mutt, the one called Hed, turned too slowly. For all their hulking brawn, they lacked the efficient speed and mental processes to dodge Kanato's exacting blow.

The bar slapped the dirty dog's cheek. A pleasing crack and a howled cry later, and Kanato finished off with a kick to the midsection.

Coerced back by the appropriated foot, the wolf flew back and slammed against the very wall Kanato had just used as leverage. Unlike the tiny destruction left by him, the wolf had cracked the whole area around his body, the brick denting inwards from the brunt.

Seemingly taking this opportunity, the smaller one called Reich laughingly struck out. Kanato batted the attacks away, alighting backwards with the efforts.

"Too much for you, Hed? Relax. Sit right there, brother and watch how the big boys go 'bout their business." The mockery earned a muffled string of curses from wolf number one. To Kanato, he grinded out, "Start fighting fuck!"

In response, Kanato shot a blow that was easily deflected by Reich's fast and hard grip around the other end. Tugged frontward, the wolf's fist came barreling for connection, but Kanato's anticipation shot his own hand out in response, catching the entire attack in his stinging palm. His shoulder angled back painfully.

Reich barked a short laugh. He tugged him again, jerking him forward on one side, while pushing him back with his fist on the other. Kanato hated the idea that he was playing with him, and the only thing he disliked even more was they both knew this was child's play challenging the wolf's nature-given musculature.

Instead Kanato used his brain, concentrating on waiting for an open chance to even the odds. Another tug and then Reich released the lever.

Acting quick, Kanato cracked the bar against the wolf's eye and also caught the protruding bone of his temple. In turn he suffered Reich's breath-robbing beating to his stomach snuck in at the same time.

Stumbling backwards with both his hands cupping his injured midsection, Kanato hunched over trying to regain his clout and finish what he started.

Looking up to see that the wolf continued his own trek backwards, his howling filling the air; its awful low pitch enough to alert the humans of the duplex buildings. It eased Kanato's pain to know he'd done an equal if not greater damage on his foe, but the cost of unwanted spectators dampened the fiery pride fueling the grin tweaking his lips.

Putting his despairing thoughts of witnesses aside, he rushed into a sprint. Once again with efficient calculation, Kanato rounded around to fly atop the hood of the car the wolf had been stumbling back towards in his blind agony. When his opponent stepped in his range of attack, Kanato launched off the metal and exacted a missile dropkick on the unsuspecting mutt's head.

Wolf two slammed to the ground under the pressure of his boots. Now in the position of power towering over him, an angry resolve to finish him off started Kanato's foot to slide over and press its menacing finality down on Reich's thick throat.

And it would have ended, if a disc swishing by didn't nearly slice off his nose, rather opting in kissing his cheek. The only two things that affirmed its presence was Kanato's head snapping around to see the object buried snug into the gashed metal of an awfully parked Chevrolet and the wetness that came away on his fingertips as the first blood from his marred cheek was drawn downwards.

Back for round three, wolf number one, or Hed, ripped off another plate, hurling the metal discus-like weapon through the air towards Kanato.

Stepping away from the fallen wolf's body, he walked towards Hed who had grabbed yet another tire plate and slapped the flat edge of it against his palm. "I'm just about ready to floss with you, toothpick." He said as Kanato paused a good few yards from his position. Just enough space to allow time to forecast any sudden attacks.

"And you can only blame yourself for your stupid meddling. Should've just kept your nose out of our business." A snarl and he catapulted with the disc held up high above his head.

Kanato jumped back, narrowly missing the sharp edge, and with the wolf's tremendous force backing what would have been harmless if wielded by a human was now an ordinary weapon sharpened for its deathly ends.

"You're only making me angrier. Goddammit, quit runnin', pussy and fight like a man!"

Kanato scoffed his response, choosing to save his breath and rage-fueled vitality for the fight itself.

Replicating an earlier scene, the two creatures hopped around the parking lot, surrounded by the carnage they'd wreaked on the vehicles around them. This wouldn't last long, Kanato's thoughts insisted.

_Yes._

Eventually something would end the tango of brute force and slight wit.

They came at a headways soon enough.

Lever met plate. A brush and then a tangle as the lock bar slid through one of the holes of the tire plate. Kanato jerked his hand and the metal stick upwards, pulling the weapon from Hed's graso.

In the confusion, Kanato struck out with the bar, his eyes narrowed on the juncture of meaty flesh he knew very well covered the thick carotid delivering blood to the brain. His hope was to hit luck and knock the asshole down once and for all.

And although the metal connected against his neck, the wolf's chuckling response wasn't what he expected.

Hed laughed, deep guttural sounds rumbling from his belly. Then one hand reached out and seized Kanato's throat.

He immediately tasted blood at the rapid pressure, the hand only tightening at his gurgled curses. Hed smiled, canines catching the weak-lighted flood lamp atop the side exit of the apartment.

"I knew making deals with vampires would go south, straight down the shitter." He said, breath fanning over Kanato's face. He felt the bastard's other paw grasp the front of his shirt and yank him closer where, to his disgust, the spittle from his verbal rampage splattered on Kanato. "You're all a bunch of sick, lying pussy-bitches. You sissy suckers disgust me. Backstabbing fucks. We're doing the boss one big ass favour."

Releasing him abruptly, he balled his fist and continued the tyranny of punches from earlier. The bigger of the two wolves, Kanato realized he'd much rather prefer Reich's weaker attacks, than the powerhouse blows packed by Hed's almost three hundred-pound muscle.

The blows continued, while the hand only seemed to grow tighter with an occasional squeeze from the bastard as if he were trying to touch the pad of his thumb to his index finger.

Kanato could almost feel the bones of his ribcage splinter and the muscles lining his throat throb from all the physical violation. "I'm going to break you apart from the inside, and then tear you apart from the out." He said, immediately acknowledging the promise with a heightening of the power behind the punches and the frequency of their amount.

Kanato pulled all his strength together, cupping his hands to catch the latest shot and snapping his arms in the opposite direction. Enjoying the pained surprise reflecting in his eyes, Kanato continued twisting himself to the side, taking the shattered wrist bones along with him.

The hand around his throat tightened and then weakened its grip, rapidly failing in choking off Kanato's air. Admittedly losing his breath from all the hits, Kanato recompensed with a jab to Hed's solar plexus.

Now loose enough, Kanato surged into the offensive. He slapped the hand away and then pulling the fist in his hand forward, he buried his teeth into the quaking forearm of its owner.

His fangs tearing at layer after layer of sinew; the howl was worse than a car alarm, prompting Kanato to shoot out his fist and knock the sense out of the pitiful creature with a straight forehead clock.

There was a loud expel of air pushed out from the beast's large lungs, and then his eyes drooped and he fell over onto his side much too rapidly, prompting his vampire combatant to pour over his still laterally recumbent frame.

Upon confirmation of wolf number one's unconsciousness, Kanato surveyed his surroundings, wary eyes searching through the dark after clueing into the disappearance of the second mutt's body where he'd left it earlier at the far end of the car lot.

Sure he had one less problem to worry about, but it made locating the other rabid dog that much more important. Sometime during the fight with the one on the ground, he'd lost track of mutt number two.

His perception was shot, senses fragile from the culmination of their fight and Kanato was circling around and around, relying on just about every wit he could control at the moment. He didn't want his enemy to find any unnecessary weak spots that could just turn this battle around in his assailant's furry favour.

A ground-levering thud from behind followed by a tumult of rising snarls clued him in a little too late as to the whereabouts of his enemy's position.

Reich's descent creased the cement. He roared and rushed forward, head lowered and arms stuck out, fists clenched at the end prepared to knock down just about whatever stood in his path.

Kanato's reflexes still weak from the encounter with Hed tried and failed avoiding Reich's stray limb, and he tumbled to the side, knees dropping hard on the pavement below.

Not given much time to recuperate, he suffered Reich's towering shadow before the encumbrance of the hard kick to his side urged him onto his back some ways away.

Managing to have rolled over and with his temple on the ground, Kanato could hear the destructively heavy steps breach his ringing senses.

A mud-stained combat boot caught him dead-center in the chest. His flight was painful, bones cracking with the speed through the air and Kanato liked to think his anticipation of the hard fall a few feet away blustered what could have otherwise been a full-force knockout

There he lied, in and out of a bleeding dark wariness. Losing mindfulness was a very bad idea right now. He didn't expect the diplomatic truce signed with the wolves to stand here. His life meant nothing to them, so death had always been an event worked in their contact.

Reich approached him again, doubtlessly having planned another attack. Rallying the remaining stability of the situation, Kanato continued to roll over and with palms flat down beneath him pushed himself up. On his hands and knees, he progressed to pulling out one leg and gaining a foothold before braving the other leg and the concern of balance in his senseless frame of mind.

Swaying slightly, he caught himself to see Reich slow his advance, cracking his knuckles in an effectively visual and sonorous display.

"How about we settle this one-on-one? Hey! I'll even let you take the first throw." This was said between a twist of his shoulders and the rounding of his neck muscles, where bones cracked from the stress of the exercises.

Rather than acknowledging his proposal of challenge verbally, Kanato mustered a part-sincere, part-spurious stance with the security bar still at his perusal.

The fight resumed with Kanato on both his feet. There was dirty play on both parts. Reich sliced at just about anything in his range with those retractable claws, and Kanato dealt his own stealthy blows wherever the metal lever and his fist could damage.

There was no lack of commentary throughout the tangle, and all Reich's monologue of taunts and jeers to which Kanato clued in on only a few between the added winding from all the fighting; although he was very mindful of a disgusting envy for the werewolf's stamina.

A childish part of Kanato wished for the tireless attacks imparted by his opponent.

All of this and he had the time to talk without as much as a huffing pause. "Thought I'd return the favour, Fang Boy." Reich said between jabs, demonstrating the enviable quality.

At last sensing a want-turned-need for conclusion Kanato caught one large fist in his hand; the other nudging his shoulder. The muscle there ached from the punch and released his hold on the bar as his fingers stretched from the painful injury. Reich was attempting to wiggle from his grasp, but tightening his hold on the fist he leveraged himself to ram a foot in the beast-man's chest and lift up the other to duel a standing dropkick.

The hairy fist slipped from Kanato's grasp as Reich ambled back and at release, Kanato lifted himself up from the one knee digging its support into the asphalt, collecting the fallen security lever there.

Not finished, he slammed the end of the lock bar into the wolf's stomach, and then deftly flipped it vertically to connect the butt under Reich's chin.

Blood splattered out with a mind-reeling bellow catching the front of Kanato's shirt and parts of his face.

Not pausing for breath he dropped to sweep his leg from out under his opponent's. He straightened immediately passing Reich on the latter's way down. Kanato paused momentarily, indulging in the quake as the bastard fell to the ground.

His eyes quickly flitted to the refreshing verification of the supine Hed, and then back down on the sense-ridden Reich.

A chilly wind froze the sweat trailing his brow, running down from his temples and kissing his jaw line in fat, salty drops. He took a quick minute to convince himself of his victorious solitude and even longer to recall the end goal of their battle.

_Oh yes._

A certain blonde, buxom trophy was at the winner's disposal. Despite the drooping frown, Kanato felt something stir within his chest. A feeling synonymous with his usual bloodlust—understandable, too, after the excursion he just pushed his body into and with so little nourishment to start—but ridden of the careless approach to any other human meal on his menu of memory. This last part brought a miniscule hesitation to his movement towards the apartment.

The momentarily blip in his wandering mind was brushed aside by the thirst pounding behind his Adam's apple, the area still sore from the abuse at the larger Hed's paw.

The tendering bruise his neck must have sported was taking much longer to heal as his body worked with what little energy it'd had left between poor meal intakes of late and the combat just now. A well-rounded repast would help quicken an already advanced immune system with the progress of restructuring the ruptured cells there.

A thirst festered there that could only be secured at the grand opening of Blondie's veins; now the exit stood as the only obstacle. A quick twist of his wrist made simple work of that.

She dwelled on sixth floor. Knowledge he'd procured from having followed her up a few times since his short introduction to her existence; more bold then he'd ventured as far as her apartment, though no more closer. A combination of time and reason held him back at that moment.

But now Kanato heeded neither as he popped the lock back with his thumb, twisting the knob and pushing on the door frame. The circular lockwork lay on the floor in his path. He wanted no alarm on her part. Having her run away even before she entered would be a problem he didn't want to have to deal with, especially when it insisted he use unnecessary measures; the kind that might harm her.

_Besides I've run around wasting enough energy and time today._

His method was to careful replace the circular piece in its frame, testing the lock from the inside to ensure he stayed in and her key would allow her access to her home as usual without alerting suspicion of his intrusion.

Once satisfied with the lock, he carefully spun around to take in the room.

_Small._

That was the first thing he noticed. The size of the place was deplorable for someone, he supposed like himself, raised in a world where this measly one-thousand squared meter space could properly be used as a _kobeya_ for his clothes and shoes.

Decent enough for one person, he acquiesced. _If she _did _live alone._

The lone perfume enclosed in the space built a confident support for that yet-studied supposition. He took a deep breath in, eyelids fluttering to half-mast from the heady feminine scent.

A natural smell in contrast to the dratted olfactory façade the other blonde—_Ashleigh, was it?_—had deemed appropriate to bathe in her pores.

Body stiffening from the sensual invasion, Kanato forced his eyes open and his gaze shifted to fall on the papers atop the counter. Curiosity pulled him towards the items.

A bag of sugary confections lay open at the table. A few wrapped candies decorated the surface along with emptied wrappers earning a disgusted huff from him. Still her sloppiness didn't mar his strong desire for her.

Lifting one of the letters up, he looked hard at the addressee. On its own movement, his finger traced the printed name. _ Theodora Forrest-Little. What an odd name._

Musings aside he pocketed the letter, rifling through more mail, opening the few drawers in the small space.

His fingers switched from touching the lackluster utensils in the drawer to the array of items tacked onto the questionably-stained refrigerator door. Amidst the bright-coloured Post-its, a picture stood out nearer the center of the disarray of stationery.

_How interesting._

Raising both hands, Kanato brushed aside the magnets holding the sides and plucked the picture up to his eyes for a closer inspection.

Interesting didn't sum up the image. Two young—_human children, no doubt_—boys were the focal of the photograph. Both mild red-heads close in school age in this very apartment, no more than a few feet away from where he stood currently in the small living-slash-dining space. One was perched over a large, heavy-looking box, with a half-visible, upside-down 'FRAGILE' sign pasted haphazardly onto the side. The other kid appeared to have been abruptly notified of the photo because he'd been immortalized in the 22.7 x 15.1mm frame with a stupefied, open-mouth look while his hands clutched a miniature bronzed-structure of London's famed Big Ben. The finger of the photographer brushed the recesses of the picture appearing as a tissue-coloured blob. Then there was Blondie herself.

Off to the side, further in the back and facing away from the shot with a hand pushing out towards the lens of the camera. Unwillingly captured, the side profile, nevertheless, was stunning. Pink lips opened in a half-protest, half-laugh; the latter emotion supported by the crinkling at the sides of the one visible eye.

Were these her children? Maybe her husband, boyfriend, or lover stood as the camera's director.

Kanato couldn't even be sure when the picture was taken. Its crinkled sides suggested its age, but then again it could have just been handled indelicately by its owner. And if the mess of the kitchen table with the candy wrappers stated anything, then he figured the latter might be more likely.

Knowing very little of human genetics, he relented to the possibility that her blonde hair could have produced those red locks spared by each boy. And she could have just as well given the genes for those upturned, freckled noses, and wide mouths. One thing he could be assured, those hazel eyes had no ties to her blue glances. Which meant Kanato would have to see their father to really get a better grasp of his theory.

The idea of her having a family disturbed his being. He deduced it to its ruining his plans. If she was married it eliminated any chance of feeding from her, his appetite curling from the thought of licking and sucking at a neck, weighing and kissing breasts, pinching and stroking a body that belonged to another man.

_Another man?_

Dismissing the taunting, irrational thought, Kanato replaced the image and directed his attention to the inside of the ice box rather than its front any longer. He'd seen enough of that already.

Inside there was very little anywhere.

The food in the fridge was sparse, and a lot of the fare was unquestionably past their expiry dates as a fermented pungency greeted his nostrils. Afraid the smell would replace Blondie's balmy essence outside, he closed the refrigerator. It cemented the idea that she had to be living alone, or living in sin with a slob.

Kanato continued his search thus, willing away the time by strolling through the loft.

His survey of the apartment had him moving from kitchenette to living room to bathroom—the latter two of which he overlooked in his haste—finally pausing at the threshold of the slightly ajar bedroom door.

Kanato's eyes swept over the chaos in there. Bed unmade, sheets everywhere looking more like a bomb had gone off and incinerated its owner. Assortments of garments lay strewn under a dresser, where the drawers were all pulled out and sagged with the weight of the fabrics jammed inside. His head cocked to the side in its discerning of the particular articles sitting in the top drawer.

He took the first steps inside; his slow, calculated gait finally had him standing before the items. They were the prettiest _shitagi _Kanato had ever seen.

These flimsy-looking underthings called forth images of her swaying, dancing for him, and allowing him to rip the delicates off her body. Affected by his reverie, he raised his hand out, but instead of giving into the desire to touch, at the last moment Kanato slapped the drawer close.

He refused to be distracted. However, his hardened lower half disagreed. In these conditions the room grew stuffy. Spotting the window, Kanato crossed the room in a few quick steps and pulling the blinds, up, snapped the locks of the window open and jerked it wide.

A sweet breeze washed over him, slightly relieving the pressure in the chamber.

It rippled through his sweat-soaked asymmetrical fringe, whispering its cool waves over inflamed cheeks and forehead. Kanato didn't know how much time he spent standing in the dark, eyes faraway and un-acknowledging of the world that spread out before him in the high rise.

The only indication of passing time was a sequential mixture of the lightening frequency of the sky and the boisterous awakening of the creatures of the day down below.

The former was a spread of wavelength's trough-to-trough resulting in a shade brighter from the midnight blue, which was more something he assigned to his heightened sight and most likely nothing he could expect a human to grasp.

_It was all night to them. Black night and white day, or simplicity at its finest._

The latter followed with a bell of siren horns from human policing authority committing to its task of distilling the silence at ground level. A familiar red car trailed behind the two law enforcing vehicles. _So the terrorized humans from earlier had lived to their unsurprising promise and returned with their defences…_

The grey parking lot trickled with bodies, hearts pumping in both discord and concord, voices sounding topics of similar interest and profound difference, and faces all the same fleshy crowns and—if he squinted—marked by individual distinctions.

_Speaking of distinctions…_

Kanato dragged his eyes around, his inspection procuring the outcome he expected. The wolves were no longer decorating the pavement. He smirked. They wouldn't have lingered for exposition from the human inquisition.

But any amusement at the thoughts of the wolves cuffed on a surgeon's bed, scalpels and wiry strands from every which direction poking and prodding them was shattered at once when everything around him moved on with his irritable awareness. The clock of his heart replaced what could have been the hum of an actual watch's hands as time ebbed by way too slowly for his liking.

Worry hectored his activity. As the minutes stretched and Blondie remained absent, however, Kanato blamed his uncharacteristic paranoia to the conditions stressing his plan. And perhaps a bit towards the sleep that nudged the nearer recesses of his mind.

He caught himself growling away a yawn or two. Sleeping was not an option, but an activity he'd fully luxuriate in later. What he needed was to be vigilant in enemy territory.

For one, the wolves might have vanished for now, but they wouldn't stay out of the picture for too long. And then there were those humans who'd barely fled from the scenes of their gruesome deaths only to return with the nuisance of their species' policing supervisors.

Primed to make his way back down to the throng of the human crowd and find the woman himself, Kanato gripped the paint-chipped window sill, his hand denting the cold metal beneath.

_Downstairs again. How troublesome. Someone would have to pay._ His thoughts hissed their promise of dark retribution.

But that was forgotten when Kanato heard the elevator down the hall ding, the sound ringing as clear as if the heels clattering out and softly thudding against the ground were in the room with him.

Then she was in the small apartment with him…

_Oh no! That's not right. _

Theodora struggled with the key in the lock. It had initially fit and turned all right but now it seemed to be stuck.

_And I can't just well live it outside for anyone to grab._

There wasn't anyone around at this time either and it seemed inappropriate knocking on any of her neighbours for help. Although most of them had been loitering outside anyways, fussing over what surely had to be yet another student-related mishap starring everyone's favorite party guest, alcohol. It really was expected when eighty percent of the occupants were senseless young people who loved any season offering the chance to party, so Hallowe'en was always a perfect time to get stupid drunk.

It had been a tight squeeze maneuvering her small car past the crowds of youth and four of Caddo Parish's finest. The police officers had stopped her on her way further into the parking lot and confirmed her residency with a flashlight-illuminated analysis of her indweller parking pass.

What Theodora had been able to collect from her visual-aided presumptions was that the party had been taken outside. And what a party it must have been.

In her mind's eye, she could still see the destruction to the other tenants' vehicles. Windows were smashed, their glasses now adorning most of the car lot's flooring; car hoods were dented and car doors were gouged, metal jutting out in insurance-cringing deplorableness.

Honestly it frightened her to leave her four-wheeled baby alone, but her body's frozen fatigue finally roused her from the side of the car and towards the entrance.

She'd avoided loitering, too, having spotted the young Baylor who thrust both his hands up in a wide wave. He looked eager to talk to her, but thankfully the crowd breached his access any further to her and this twist in luck prompted her to actually return the wave in genuine delight, glad she wouldn't have to endure any chances of his youthful affections anymore that day. On this note she'd turned around to dip away from the ruckus.

The elevator couldn't come fast enough. All the way up the nonstop ride to her sixth floor, her feet pounded and begged for her to pull them out from the two-inches of terror.

In her haste to avoid Jen's guilting Fred to drive her home, Theodora had forgotten her sneakers and had to drive the hour home in heels that weren't meant for that long a ride, and all to spare her brother-in-law the stress.

"And in return, Jen, I'm so going to burn these heels of yours," she grumbled her vengeful promise, limping out of the conveyor doors.

Somewhere along the half journey home Theodora realized she hadn't gone to the bathroom since leaving Jen's house earlier for the party. It was probably the only thing that kept her up seeing as Jack Johnson was doing nothing but succeed in lulling her to a dangerously sleepy, road-prone casualty, she had to go without his softly rumbling croons; thus she had plenty of time to recognize the pinching capacity of her pee-pee place.

Now that combination of feet-aching, bladder-bursting, and general drowsiness made her want to throw her hands up and leave the key right where it seemed to demand to stay jammed in her apartment entrance's lock.

"Come on!" She nearly screamed from raging frustration, her sweaty hand slipping off the key's warmed metal surface.

Not that she lived in a particular area to warrant the fear of a random, passionless B&E.

Still Mooringsport had neighbours with their own national-topping crime rates. Jefferson, for one, played the setting for many burglaries, some of which included witnesses who were people she and her family knew. And then there was Shreveport—the third largest city of the world's prison capital was in its own league.

So sending up some love to God, she exercised moderation she only liberally used to have things, for once, work her way.

Maybe the prayers worked because the key eventually wiggled loose from the lock after a full fifteen minutes of her attention.

With a sigh, she heaved the door closed behind her, turning to adjust the lock in place. Then tiptoeing she reached for the gold-coloured chain lock above. Losing her footing for a moment on her descent back to her feet, she gripped onto the door, chest pushing against the hard frame. Wariness rooted her to the spot for a long minute until she felt strongly assured her butt wouldn't be polishing the floor anytime soon.

Clearly the heels and the varnished wood flooring were a bad pairing.

Another exasperated sigh slipped loss on account of acknowledging her almost fall, and trying to avoid lingering on the thoughts of the aftermath of that would-have possibility—namely the image of a pregnant woman in heels tumbling down—Theodora dropped her hand from its defensive ownership of her belly and bent down to remove the dressy shoes.

Leaving them at the foot of the door, forgotten for the call of the toilet, she padded across from the entrance to the hall and through the bathroom with only the tiniest self-awareness of the added measure of cautiousness to keep her balance upright.

Negligence never had been her forté even if she sometimes hated imagining the life that grew inside her.

While washing her hands she took a second to survey herself in the small mirror above the sink. Her eyes were red and the skin beneath them was puffy and swollen-dark. Her lips were cracked, and seeing them thus, Theodora watched her reflection swipe out and run her tongue to soak the visually-appalling surface.

She felt tired, but seeing it pronounced in the mirror just really sunk in the physical and mental distress she'd put herself through that day even if it was at the behest of those she loved. Namely Jen and her boys.

The nagging knowledge of her current fragile condition pushed at the fringes of her mind, crowding towards the middle until it cornered her into drawing up a quick mental list of things to do before she called it a night, starting with listening to her growling stomach. Then she'd follow up with a bath.

"Meaning I get to finally get out from these poor excuse for clothes." She ran a hand down the side lengths of her body, from the A-line dip of the corset over her larger-than-average breasts to the widening poof of the senselessly short dress skirt. The costume really was a mash-up of porn star and Hallowe'en party goer.

However, standing in the bathroom alone Theodora felt empowered by her sexual portrayal but recalling the way it had centered on her experiences last night, she felt herself drop her hands away from her body as if they were shocked into hanging limply at her sides.

She'd been on display tonight, and like honey, had lured horny bees and felt the assured stinging of embarrassment. Quite put Theodora was, as her mama had said all too often in conversation when describing her to the other societal matrons, "shy as a mail-order bride".

Shy enough for her to compartmentalize that evening into the long-term bank of her memory. Her night had been a strange experience, frightening in some cases which felt appropriate given the crux of the seasonal activity. Everything had been extraordinary.

_Especially those weird guys…_

Theodora would be lying if she said she hadn't been physically fascinated by their brute presence. Those beefy muscles had tensed as the smaller of the two clasped her hand in his grip pushing forth pulsing veins she never thought existed in those areas. Meanwhile she'd been forced to entertain the dirty acknowledgements of the larger one.

The things Mr. Very Big, Badass-looking, and Hairy had said, she could see in leaning closer to the mirror, produced the same shameful red even now in the privacy of her home. Words slurred in a low rumbling excitement heated the shell of her ear, and drawing closer dipped his hot breath down her collarbone, pushing her to almost reconsider the denial of corporeal pleasure.

A mutinous physical attraction aside, Theodora recognized the uneasy dismay at their presence and that sucked any amorous future with either from the situation. Fear just didn't lead to sex.

Theodora chalked herdoubtful curiosity of what could have been had she allowed one of them, if not both, to take her home to the situation itself. That kind of attention was still awfully newto her twenty-four years of life, and their method of approach had been—up to that point—unfathomable.

Sure she'd seen many a guy hanging over his lady but men didn't react to her that way, at least not until they'd had a window of opportunity.

They looked, of course. Theodora had endured many a thorough gaze since she'd filled her 36Ds at the tender age of fourteen, something Jen had come to call "optical rape". But touching was passed over, and her shyness didn't help the situation.

That had been the main difference between the Forrest-Little sisters. Jen flirted to her heart, and body's, content, opening the door to darn good players and gentlemen alike up until she began dating Fred in her high school senior year. Some had copped a feel and others had cashed out extravagant dates, and too often her older sister liked to tease her husband in reminding he'd been in the latter category.

Theodora's introvert and shy persona built a semipermeable wall acting to filter her circle of conversation partners, while her small town upbringing helped work its magic in keeping both sleazy comments and genuine advances at bay.

_And tonight had sure offered its share of sleazy and oddly sexy comments…_

It could have been that she might have been wrapped in one of their arms tonight, and that knowledge enough incited a burst of sexual satisfaction that quirked up the corner of her lips from their pondering frown.

And then there was that other one.

Hair she could have sworn was more purple than black. She found her thoughts occasionally preoccupied by the question of its origin a good portion of the hour ride from Shreveport to Jen's place in Jefferson.

_It had to be a non-permanent box dye, right?_ It was Hallowe'en after all, but it didn't explain the same colouring to his drawn brows when he'd looked up to address her presence.

Purple eyes had shimmered in the fading glow of a lamp light a little ways away. _Contacts?_ She'd recalled her mind rationalizing. They'd narrowed to thin slits, brows knotting even tighter and down lower his lips had thinned. And still he remained breath-robbing gorgeous.

Clearly he'd been angry at her interruption; something that might not have occurred had the woman in his embrace been a stranger. But she'd been compelled to approach when, at the party's culmination, a cape-less Count Russell had stopped Jen and her in the lobby inquiring of Ashleigh's whereabouts.

_Was he her lover?_

Clearly Ashleigh was a dynamite extravert, in every sense of the phrase "the hostess with the mostess" though Jen's description in the car fell more on "sex machine".

Being the meandering mediator she was, Theodora was quick to reprimand her sister, although if she was being honest, the effort was half-hearted.

It was wrong. Cheating was all wrong. Tears had pricked her eyes for Russell which muddled with the strange possessive current charging her body with the mental picture of her hostess' lilac-eyed lover.

_Lover._ Even the word soured in her mind, and Theodora couldn't fathom saying it aloud.

But surely that wasn't the reason she wasn't coming around to Ashleigh's defence. Absurd jealousy for a man who corralled married woman against cars with necking sessions.

_But you aren't married._ Damn her thoughts!

Theodora didn't know which she hated more. That her subconscious was stubbornly insisting on rebelling against her wish to forget the scene or that latent part of her was very right in proposing her illicit interest.

She had been at a loss of words under his scrutiny and in the situation. If Jen hadn't ripped her away Theodora was positive she'd have stood there all night, unable to look away from those violet orbs.

Theodora indulged herself with the possibility of a parallel meeting where those eyes looked at her differently, opened wide in recognition instead, and that man...

_How did he hold?_

Then, what she liked to believe was her sanity, gripped her shoulders and shook her from the reverie. Swiping a hand across the front of her face, she exited the bathroom.

No life greeted her from inside the dark apartment. Before she'd been so busy trying to focus on making it to the toilet, she hadn't really let the silence seep in.

_And the cold apparently._

"Holy frosted frog!" She breathed the exclamation, arms flying to wrap around her inadequately-clothed upper frame.

Shivering, she rushed to close the open balcony door over the screen protector in front. How a relatively warm morning transformed into a frigid night was a big question she'd leave up to the Big Man Upstairs.

Locating the light switch, Theodora warmed already at the sight of the ceiling light dispersing most of the sleepy darkness from the room. Then her hand fell over the thermostat dial and the hum of the radiator prompted a satisfied nod from her. She dropped her purse onto the love-seat and headed towards the kitchenette to manage the next task on her to-do list, her hunger.

She had eaten a lot at the party. There was no shortage of finger food and tooth-rotting treats at the party, and easily bypassing the alcohol, Theodora had made more than one trip to fill her paper plate. So she really knew she probably shouldn't be eating again so soon, but she figured pregnancy gave her a license to rummage the fridge, and retrieve and reheat last night's Chinese leftovers.

While waiting for her late dinner to warm, she snuck a few miniature Reese's Pieces from her treat bag.

As she struggled with the wrapper, Theodora heard a sound from the further recesses of her apartment. From where she stood in the open floor plan of the small kitchen and the living room, she could see down the short hallway connecting the rest of the house with her one bathroom and only bedroom.

A long pause stretched out, the chocolate-and-peanut butter confection forgotten in her hand. That quiet moment offered her a barrage of noises. Coughs and television programs filtered through from neighbouring suites, the wind that had chilled her to the bone whipped outside, seeming to beg for entrance at her windows and door. Lastly there was the steady drumming of her heart, paranoia having hitched its normal pace up to a light jog.

The squealing timer dispelled the magic as it elicited a yelp and a good jump from her. Dropping the candy on the counter, she slapped the microwave timer off and welcomed the silence she'd just feared a few seconds ago.

A fear Theodora all together dismissed after diving into the steaming spring rolls and Szechuan noodles. Dessert was a handful of Reese's cups, Hershey Kisses and miniature boxes of Smarties.

Cleaning up with a full stomach, Theodora barely managed to haul the empty takeout box and the candy wrappers to the garbage. Sleep overcame her, slowing her movements to a dizzying sluggish pace. Her mind wasn't completely there either, seeing as she almost tossed out her bills, too, in her effort to clean the kitchen counter. Then again maybe that last part was more subconsciously-stemmed intention.

Stifling her temptation to trash her upcoming dues as a responsible, single-living adult, Theodora stumbled away from the trash closing on the welcoming image of her slightly ajar bedroom door. Yawning, her eyes fluttered closed as her hand reached up and pushed the door frame in her blind hurry to rush under her beckoning bed covers.

A slap of icy wind snapped her eyes wide. The rest of her body was just as quick to react. Goose flesh decorated the length of her bare arms and legs, nipples pebbled to painfully hard peaks, and a gasp fled from her mouth.

She opened her eyes a little too late. Her blinds were drawn open and she'd been busy trying to calculate when she'd done that, especially as they were always stuck and she had been meaning to change them once she got past her laziness. Then the shadowy figure of a man washed out by the faint night light streaming through the window pushed all those thoughts away.

He was already facing her, leaning back against the open window arms unfolding and stepping forward upon her frozen acknowledgement.

Kanato had been patiently waiting, calculating his options since the sound of her key turning the entrance lock had jingled him to life, the scent of her washing through and replacing the fading perfume permeating the property, her clamouring past into the bathroom, and the warm meal she'd enjoyed alone. It had been all too difficult, having her so near and yet so far away.

All through it he contemplated different scenarios of announcing his presence. But unknown emotions rooted him to the spot. Coaxing patience—Kanato wasn't possible existed from him—to settle his uneasy mind.

There were no second thoughts plaguing him. He didn't question his motives or his plans for Blondie. So whatever holding him from a rapid-fire confrontation had to be intuition, right?

"Of course." He recalled whispering in the dark.

Something he felt could go wrong. Like her managing to escape. _Or his killing her in natural accidence._

Neither would happen, and though he didn't believe in any human-fabricated God, Kanato found himself relying on intangible hope to secure his intentions.

His two hour long fortitude was rewarded with her advancing steps. Fluffy patterns on the thin hall carpet and in contrast his heart responded with heavy thuds against his chest.

Upon entry she had her eyes closed, palm out to push open the bedroom door wide, daintily-painted toes catching the carpet on her stumble to a halt. Blue irises flashed in the dark, clear to his superior vision, displaying a progression of emotions from shock to confusion, and though it didn't stir in her eyes yet, he predicted eventually terror.

In order of causation he figured the shock was from the cold. What had been nothing more than a refreshing breath of air for him brought forth an opposite response from her. His eyes made a quick tour from her feet, up the chill-puckered flesh of her rounded legs to her breasts—here his focus narrowed in on her shirt-straining nipples, dangerously clear to his evolutionally-enhanced view—and lastly, forcing to a full-stop on her face. The confusion could be characterized by the state of the bedroom in her memory; after all, the window hadn't been open when she left.

_And you weren't in the room either._ His lips turned up at the mental musing.

As for the panic, he saw that coming long before. Kanato hadn't expected for her to open her arms wide and, later, her legs. _No. That'd require time. And a lot of it possibly…_

Time Kanato couldn't be sure he had, but he'd make use of what he'd won from the wolves right then.

As if sensing his resolve, Blondie's lips fell open for the deep exhale pushing from her cavity.

All of it really was no more than a handful of seconds.

Seconds for a human maybe, but more than enough time for his predicting action to her reaction long before she'd realize it. _If she ever did._ Musing thoughts aside, Kanato disintegrated himself willingly, speed pushing the dispersed air molecules aside.

He caught her by surprise, her eyes widening as she stumbled to a stop. Her movements were a fraction too slow as by the time she had managed to gain a foot back in the hall, he had a hold on her forearm and yanked her back into the room, slamming the door closed behind her and shutting them in together. He spun her against him at first, forcing her to step back along with him near the safer center of the room.

At least he had to give her some credit. The whole time she attempted a step up from slapping him, biting him, and kicking him, saving her breath instead for the fight rather than sparing verbal insults. She was trying out moves that might have worked if A) he were a human and B) her anxiety didn't corner her into horrible aim.

With every passing moment, he had time to think clearly above the direct blast of her sweet-smelling, ever-squirming frame; time to wonder just how bad this could get if he couldn't find a way to reign it in immediately. This was new to him, the whole stalk, break-and-enter, arm-twisting capture method.

Kanato wasn't prone to hauling off his victims unwillingly.

All of his female companions stood at his command to their volition, unwrapped their bodies and blood at their own wish to please him into their version of happily ever after. Usually they were women he'd culled for days, if not weeks, through their fawning ignorance. This allowed him to weed out via his preferences and his desire for trustworthy relations. The last thing he needed was a hunter's honey trap acting out sweet revenge.

He never had trouble getting blood before; the endearing Ashleigh was a great example of the lengths women would go to get his attention, even forsaking their own husbands and children for what they assumed was their deserved happiness.

Although clearly she didn't seem to have any male living with her, and no fiery-haired children had popped out behind her, this one wasn't about to drool all over him any time soon.

Then again, maybe she would.

_You'd have to test her._

Mischievous ideas replaced the mindful part that frowned at his designation of this woman as a victim. _The idea of hurting her really bothers you, doesn't it?_

A scream pierced his ear drums, the sounds grating nails on his auditory stimulation and, confusingly, his chest. His hand fell too quickly over her mouth, though not fast enough in his opinion as the short-lived sound had done its temporary ringing damage. He'd hurt her if she didn't shut up.

_No you won't._

He squeezed the hand against her mouth in reply to that sardonic thought.

Still she twisted against him past the forced silence, her waving arms finally encaged by his own arm falling over them and pressing them back against her body.

On its own accord, Kanato's nose luxuriated in the shampooed perfume at the crown of her head. He held her there for a long time, wanting to let the idea of the situation along with the impossibility of any chances of escape on her terms to sink in. He was nowhere near done with her. There were still questions to be answered, esoteric strategies to be demystified, and veins to pillage.

Careful to reposition his hips to avoid contact against her buttocks with his tented front zipper, he temporarily satisfied himself with possessing her frame externally.

_Is that what you want? What you expect? What you think you deserve? Sex?_

He pulled her out further, angling his cock from the temptation that was her plushy behind. Kanato exhaled loudly, watching his breath caress the sunny strands in its range, and feeling her rapidly stiffen and then slowly relax in his arms.

He didn't know how to convey his harmlessness to her, when he had no clue how the night, their meeting would unfold. Suddenly he didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep.

Yet he heard himself speak before he could stop himself. "I'm not going to hurt you."

_Liar, liar, liar._

Above the derisive chanting of his internal processes, Kanato gnashed his teeth, the loud snap popping through the air and reinvigorating the tautness of her suspicious frame.

Though he didn't want to agree, he had to acknowledge the truthful angle of his thoughts. It was an overall stupid phrase, bland in its usage and predictable of its situation; therefore completely an irreparable error from him. The first thing he said to her and he probably instilled the image of a Victorian Gothic rape scene in her mind, where he starred as the lust-senseless male lead about to have his way with his fair-haired captive.

Words were useless, and his head was half-busy contemplating the raging hard-on demanding Kanato lift up the thin material of her skirt and find her cunt underneath the cotton-over-cotton layered underskirt poking out.

The thought of his erection sandwiched on either side by her butt cheeks brought forth an acknowledging nod from deep within, and in response, his fangs nibbled his lower lip.

_Yes._ Words meant nothing to him. They didn't convey his thirst for her blood, or his hunger for her body, and they wouldn't stop her from attempting to break free. She had started wiggling again, pushing out against the barrier of his arms, and only effectively causing the bottom of her heavy breasts to slide back and forth over his arms.

Irritated by the near-impossible hardened state of his cock, Kanato tried to control her innocently arousing movements.

Blondie was making that difficult for him.

Miming the swinging of her hips, her neck jerked to the side, and again to the other side following her endeavor to escape; her actions succeeded in exposing an abundance of perilously bare flesh at her neck, prompting his eyes to fixate on the veins Kanato knew from day-to-day meals were bundled beneath slippery rows of muscle.

Restraining his fangs by clamping his mouth closed, he squeezed again, pressing her against his body and growling.

Cheered on by this childlike tantrum-aligned thought pattern, he continued to pull her back, disregarding his erection and the perfection of its position at the opening of her butt crack in order to fully concentrate on gaining a hard-handed control of the situation. The subsequent breathy yelp from a particularly tight squeeze satisfied his blood and bodily thirst temporarily, but he decided that it inconvenienced him to keep her in that position for any longer. That and he wanted to see her some more.

Decision made, Kanato pushed them forward into a stunted march. Blondie had no choice but to follow, but he imagined her thoughts were enraptured by the obviousness of his dick against her behind. He halted them both forcefully once he was standing before the closed bedroom door.

Thankfully the door was the type with a built-in latch from the inside as his eyes assessed the knob with the twist lock.

"Lock the door."

Another dramatic intake of air at his hot command displaced the chilly air at her ear. Unfurling one arm from its bear hug around her, Kanato wrapped his hand around her wrist and with the length of their arms pressed together in parallel unison; this way he controlled the majority of her action up and to the lock. There he gentle nudged the knuckles of her fisted hand against the lock.

"Turn it."

She shook her head in response, a choked sob sobering him to patience. He waited, knowing she'd complete the task eventually, and sure enough a few of seconds later she opened her palm and grasping the lock between her thumb and the first knuckle of her index she turned the lock in place truly shutting them in together.

No sooner had she done that did he swerve them around, mostly on the effort of lifting her up a few inches and dropping her back on her feet once they now faced the bed.

Kanato felt the deep scowl work at his facial muscles at the rearing back of her head, the tightening of her body, and the one whispered protest.

Any play-by-play fantasy he had of taking her willing body over that standard twinned bed fled away at her reaction. Not that he'd been playing to fuck her senseless…just yet.

Right now he wanted her to complete another task for him. Without bringing them closer, he first chose to clear the air. "Grab the sheets." Then in a similar action, he trotted them forward, finding hesitancy still incapacitated her speed. Kanato didn't blame her. There was no reason for her to trust that he wouldn't hurt her, kill her, or rape her, or do all of those things in some succession.

_You could try…_

He could. At that moment he offered her just enough trust to test her. See what she'd do with it once she had it in her possession. Really more out of practicality's sake, this loyalty came in the form of dropping one of his arms to tuck around her navel, and in this act freeing one of her own for her to finish the stated chore—this time without his arm guiding her movements.

What he expected was for her to take the opening to deal a blow with the freed limb, and she looked to actually be contemplating that very line of thought. But motivated by whatever reasoning, truly the curious creature, she did as she was told with as little protest the second time around.

Grabbing the end of the sheets after her legs just about brushed the end of the bed. Blondie tugged them towards her, leaning over to gather the beige cotton. When he saw she was having trouble, he aligned his arm once more against hers, and unfurling her other arm with his tight grasp, he used both of their efforts to hug the material up and to her bosom.

Again Kanato turned them, directing his attention to the wall at the far end; a blank space stretching between the door and the dresser holding those delectable underthings. Perfect support for what he wanted to initiate.

He escorted her into an advance where rearing her back he gauged their close proximity. He released his arm's position over her, grabbed the bland-coloured blankets and situated them over his shoulder all much too quickly for her to attempt any harmful sneak blow before he had her trapped in his two-armed authority anew.

**A/N: Please leave a review if you can. I'd appreciate the feedback like mad. As I said, I'm editing this story and I'm changing just enough to make this better for me (as the writer and reader) and any of you who are interested in reading. For example, what did you hate about this and what did you really love? (And how many of you are buying Diabolik Lovers More, Blood? Lol.) Buh bye now.**

**-Henke**


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